The Inefficiency Postulate
by Analyn d'Ettore
Summary: When Amy learns her desires are incompatible with Sheldon's, she has a decision to make. As the Bard says, the course of true love never did run smooth. Now posting part III.
1. Chapter 1

**The Inefficiency Postulate: Or the Long Way Around**

Disclaimer: TBBT does not belong to me. This is merely my playground.

Summary: When Amy learns her desires are incompatible with Sheldon's, she has a decision to make. As the Bard says, the course of true love never did run smooth.

* * *

Amy was glad once more for her very warm and very conservative mode of dress as she hurried back to her lab from her meeting across campus on the unusually chilly California day. An unfamiliar sound caused her to stop her hurried pace. Her head slowly turned to the squeals of children playing. They did not seem bothered by the crisp air.

A recently-developed clenching in her gut took place at the sight of the children. Before Penny, she would have tried to diagnose herself with a medical condition at the feeling rather than admit it was her emotions, not her physical well-being, that was the cause. Then again, before she met Penny she likely would never have been able to experience such feelings.

Longing. It was a feeling Amy was well acquainted with. It came on to her slowly as she became friends with, and then the girlfriend of, Sheldon Cooper. Longing for him, his mind, his touch, his intoxicating scent of talc.

This particular longing that she felt was not about Sheldon Cooper. Not directly at least. She'd assumed she'd have children one day. She'd never given it much thought, and certainly not the same single-minded effort she put into her work. But then she'd gone to the coffee shop, met Sheldon Cooper, been introduced to Penny and Bernadette, and things started to change. She underwent her adolescence, so to speak, and emerged a different woman—a woman the Sheldon Cooper of their first meeting would never have looked at twice. She knew the longing for what it was. She was nearing thirty five and it was time for her to have children. If she did not get started soon, she would not be able to have children for much longer, at least not without incurring significant health risks to both herself and the baby. As it was her fertility was already on the decline.

And that was the rub. In the end, it came back to Sheldon Cooper. Her boyfriend who could barely stand to hold her hands and kiss her, which he did solely because he was obligated to by the relationship agreement, and who certainly had no interest in engaging in coitus, his word not hers, with her.

It was time for Amy to face the inevitable. She had to talk to Sheldon. That was the strength of their relationship, their ability to talk about anything and everything, and move beyond it. It was why they were close, friends before they were . . . well, not lovers. It was already the second Tuesday of the month. Date night was coming up in two days and she would broach the subject then.

Shaking her mind of the longing, she continued on her way back to her lab. A quick glance at her phone told her that the boys would have already eaten their lunch and she would be better off eating her lunch in her lab as she read some recent publications than going to the cafeteria alone.

Her cold chicken sandwich and an apple were sufficient caloric intake, but as she pulled them out of the office fridge she knew that was not what she really wanted to eat. The truth was, she hated eating alone. Ever since she was a child she'd eaten alone. Then she met Sheldon and Penny, and perhaps not seamlessly, she wiggled her way into their friend group and she no longer had to eat alone. Lunch was spent in the cafeteria with her colleagues and later on her friends, and dinner usually at 4A, the Cheesecake Factory, or on date night. She associated eating alone with undesirable times in her life. The neurobiologist in her should be analyzing exactly what those thoughts meant and coming up with a way to overcome them, but the lonely woman in her took over and settled down to a quiet lunch spent reading by herself.

She was surprised when not two minutes later she heard a familiar knock at her lab door. "Amy...Amy...Amy," her boyfriend called out.

"Come in," she returned and looked towards the door as Sheldon stepped inside. With him came the feeling of warmth and belonging, his cocky confidence flooding the room with him as if it was exactly where he belonged. Amy long ago noticed that any room with Sheldon Cooper in it felt like that.

"What can I do for you, Sheldon?" she asked, her thoughts from before still too raw for her to muster up any enthusiasm for the question. She was weary. Tired; Tired of fighting Sheldon for the physical intimacy she craved; Tired of waiting; Tired of returning home every night to her apartment alone instead of the house she would undoubtedly share with her husband and children, should they come into existence.

In a typical Sheldon manner, he entirely missed her dejection and went straight into a rant about his problems, namely Amy did not show up in the cafeteria for lunch and she always at with the guys on Tuesday.

"...were supposed to be there...had to put up with Raj's...Kripke...schedule—"

"—I'm not in the mood for this right now, Sheldon." Amy eventually held her hand up to silence him.

Sheldon took on that look of a surprised child after being abruptly cut off. Taken aback, he said, "Oh."

Amy could see the slight shift in his eye that indicated he was thinking. Calculating something. She also saw when his calculations failed as he went from upset at her to confused. She knew she could not put up with a boyfriend any less intelligent than her, but sometimes Sheldon's very intelligence was difficult as he became caught up in his own problems and failed to recognize or understand hers.

"I had a meeting across campus and wasn't able to make it back to the cafeteria in time. I'm sorry," Amy said, not wanting to fight with him. Date night was coming up and she did not want to give her flighty boyfriend any excuse to cancel.

"I see," Sheldon said, and then, because the information still did not compute, he said, "but why aren't you 'in the mood'? Did your meeting not go well?"

Oh Sheldon. She loved him yet he could be daft sometimes. Strike that. Her intelligent boyfriend was daft most of the time when it came to things that couldn't be measured and calculated.

"My meeting went fine, thank you for asking." The social niceties now came as second nature to her. She could not deny that Penny and Bernadette changed her for the better, and the social courtesies she once did not practice were one of the many ways she'd grown over the years.

Sheldon fell silent. With nothing to say, Amy continued eating her sandwich though she did not return her attention to the paper. It remained focused on Sheldon standing tall and confident in her neurobiology lab. She wondered how much she would freak if she told him that he was standing only two feet away from a brain she was about to prep for dissection. Their silences were as comfortable as their conversations. In fact, their ability to be in the same room together without saying a word was as integral to their relationship as their friendship. It was comfortable.

"Is there a particular reason you came here?" Amy asked. Sheldon seldom visited her in her lab, and usually only when he wanted her to take him home from work when he wanted to leave early and Leonard refused to take him until the end of the day.

"No," Sheldon said, and he appeared as if there was more he was about to say before he clamped his jaw shut and redirected the topic. "I mean yes. I came here to inquire the reason for your absence today at lunch. Now that issue is resolved, I will go. Goodbye, Dr Fowler."

"Goodbye, Dr Cooper," Amy said to the physicist's retreating back.

 _That was odd,_ she thought once he left. Sheldon seemed to be acting a bit out of sorts when he burst into her lab, and she had to wonder why he came to see her personally, making the long trek from the physics department to the biology department just to account for her absence at lunch when he would be seeing her at dinner with their friends that evening.

There was one thing Amy knew and it was that Sheldon Cooper was an enigma.

* * *

AN: This is the longer story I spoke about earlier. The draft is now complete at over 300 pages. I'll be editing and posting at least every Monday, Wednesday, Friday. If I have the time and encouragement (**cough cough reviews**), I'll probably edit and post faster. For anyone who dislikes slow updates or unfinished stories, no worries here. Long and angsty, but there will be a HEA for Shamy shippers.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Wow! Such a great response from the first chapter I just had to hurry and get this next one posted ahead of schedule. To the reviewers who I can't respond to personally, thanks.

* * *

As time was wont to do, it passed more quickly when one most wanted to prolong the inevitable or, in Amy's case, the unavoidable conversation she resolved on having with Sheldon. She parked her car in the lot at 2311 Los Robles and sent Sheldon a quick text informing him she was downstairs. She did not wonder what it would be like to have a normal boyfriend who would pick her up for date night in his car as many other girls might have. In truth, she liked driving Sheldon. When he always went to Leonard and Penny during a crisis, it made her feel superfluous. Driving Sheldon made her feel _needed_. And while the others might be annoyed by Sheldon's criticism of their driving and incessant need for car games, Amy liked them. It was just one of the many venues Sheldon exhibited his intelligence and Amy enjoyed that side of him. Regardless of what the others might say, she enjoyed the intellectual stimulation of the games as well. They made her feel close to him.

"You shouldn't leave your doors unlocked like that, Amy," Sheldon scolded as he settled his long legs into the passenger seat and his lithe body followed. "What if I was going to harm you?"

Amy rolled her eyes at Sheldon's need for safety precautions. It was endearing that he cared about her safety though.

"But you aren't going to harm me, Sheldon," she reminded him with a smile as she turned the key in the ignition. She felt the engine hum to life.

"I could have been someone else," Sheldon argued with her.

Amy felt her body tingle to life at the thought of another debate with Sheldon. The others disliked Sheldon's condescending, know-it-all attitude. Amy loved giving as good as she got. She would never let on as much to Sheldon for fear of him running away, but their intellectual debates were arousing.

"But you weren't so your case is moot. Now where am I going?" she asked him.

"Right," Sheldon answered. Leave it to Sheldon to not tell her the name of the restaurant but to navigate her step by step as he always did. Him and his need to show off his eidetic memory more likely.

They played the element game—easier than counterfactuals and therefore more suitable for the car where she did not need as much concentration and could instead focus on the road and Sheldon's intoxicating scent, not that she would ever admit how much she loved the way he smelt like talc. That was yet another to send him running away from her.

He chose an Italian restaurant. He briefly tried to argue with the maître d' about the inefficiency of making a reservation for 7:00pm if their table was not going to be ready until 7:10pm, and Amy had the forethought to distract him from his increasingly agitated argument before he got them kicked out of the restaurant entirely.

She ordered ravioli and Sheldon spaghetti. They ate with comfortable conversation, and Amy fidgeted once their plates were cleared away. She knew what she had to say.

"There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Amy finally summoned her courage.

"Oh!" Sheldon seemed surprised, and then a knowing smile crossed his face. "You mean about missing lunch on Tuesday. That's okay. Just don't miss lunch again, little lady. You know how much I like my schedules."

Amy smiled at him. When he said childish things such as that, which would make a normal person infuriated, she felt her heart clench with the burst of affection she felt. Her boyfriend was both handsome and boyishly adorable. If only he wanted to touch her more, she would be the luckiest girl in the world.

"I know you do," Amy agreed, "but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about, Sheldon."

Sheldon seemed taken aback, surprised his enormous intellect failed to anticipate her words.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about children."

"Children?" For all his intelligence, Sheldon truly could be clueless. "Germ-infested, loud, chaotic little things. I don't like children, Amy. Why do we have to talk about them?" Sheldon whined.

And that right there was why she had not brought up her concern about children before. Somewhere deep down she knew she would be rebuffed if she did. He disliked children. She wanted a child, and not in the sense that she wanted children sometime in the future or even in the next few years. She wanted a child _now_. She had a stable career, enough income to support a child, and she was on track to gaining recognition in her field. She had a steady boyfriend of almost five years, and if she was honest with herself, she could not see herself with anyone else but him. Perhaps she would even win a Nobel Prize some day. Her biological clock was ticking and she was running out of time.

Sheldon hated children? He seemed okay with the idea of a test tube baby grown in a surrogate as a way to gift the world with his progeny. He was also eager to have Martian babies with her, but Amy wasn't willing to wait for the off-chance that they might be chosen to go to Mars. The truth was that when it came to Sheldon, he was never ready, always dragging his feet leaps and bounds behind her, reluctantly progressing but never really wanting to. He could not possibly want children.

"Never mind, Sheldon," Amy said. She tried and failed to keep her dejection at bay, but in his typical manner Sheldon either failed to recognize what she felt or choose simply to ignore it and focus on what he wanted instead.

"Good. Because I was thinking we could go to the train store after. There's a . . ."

Sheldon kept talking but Amy couldn't focus on his words. The train store? That's what he wanted to talk about? Here she was trying to discuss whether children would be a possibility in their future and he would rather focus on silly toys that a grown man really shouldn't still be playing with. His talc made him smell like a baby powder. He often acted like a toddler. Most of the time, Amy found his scent undeniably sexy. Tonight, it just served to remind her of the future children she would never have if she stayed with Sheldon.

If. That was right. Her mind had know for awhile she'd have to make this decision. Short of some type of apocalypse, Sheldon would not want children. She loved him, but was that love strong enough to get her through a lifetime without them? More to the point, would she wish for a life with Sheldon when it meant she would watch their friends have children someday but never her? And, even more hurtful, did he even want a life with her? After almost five years together they had nothing more to show of it than a handful of kisses and reluctant cuddling. No coitus. Would Sheldon ever want her that way? Would he even want her in his life forever? So far, he balked at the thought of them living together even though they dated for five years. He even ran away because the thought of living with her was too scary for him to contemplate. Would that be her fate if she stayed with him? For him to forever live with Leonard and Penny as she went home to her apartment alone and childless for the rest of her life. Would he ever want to get married?

Marriage. Children. Those weren't just things that she wanted. She needed them in a way she never would have anticipated. And it was time for her to open her eyes to the truth that Sheldon did not want them and likely never would. Worse, she knew she did not want to marry Sheldon if it meant she had to force him to the altar. She did not want to force him to have children he'd resent. She and Sheldon were both brilliant, and while genetics was a factor in intelligence—as a neurobiologist Amy knew a lot about that topic—it was not everything. What if their children were not as intelligent as Sheldon and her? Would he still want the child? Still love the child? Or would he reject them outright?

That was even worse. And yet as much as she feared Sheldon would never want to have what she needed, she loved him too much. The thought of marriage and children with a faceless stranger was as unappealing to her as a lifetime of the limbo she was currently in.

Perhaps he needed time. She'd try again in a few days. She'd talk to Penny. Her blonde bestie understood Sheldon in a different way than she did. As much as everyone criticized Penny for not being as educated as the rest of them, she was smart in her own way. She could hold her liquor and she had street smarts. She could fix things when they were broken and, despite all her own personal failures, she was great with relationships. Penny understood things about human behavior her more 'intelligent' friends did not. Penny might have some insight onto how to deal with Sheldon.

"—Amy." Amy was startled out of her thoughts as Sheldon said her name. "I said your name three times, Amy," Sheldon complained, "Why weren't you listening to me."

"I'm sorry," Amy replied robotically. She could give Commander Data a run for his money. She'd been around Sheldon and the boys too long if she actually knew how to make a _Star Trek_ reference. "I got distracted. What were you saying?"

Push her own thoughts and worries to the back of her mind and focus on him. That's what she'd been doing for years and it worked in the sense that she and Sheldon were together. He was too childish, too needy, for their relationship to work any other way.

The neurobiologist knew exactly what to say to that. Repressing her emotions in favor of his was not healthy. Putting him first and never saying what was bothering her was bad for her mental health. And yet if she did anything else, Sheldon would run away again. The two of them were precariously balanced atop a house of cards just waiting to crumble. Amy had the foreboding feeling that all to soon they would finally face the gust of wind that would tear their carefully wrought construction apart. As a scientist, she did not place any stock in the hokum that was intuition and feeling without fact and evidence. As a woman, she could not help but be worried.


	3. Chapter 3

They split the check, yet another thing that Amy wished Sheldon understood. She wasn't opposed to paying for her own meals, but there were times when she just wanted Sheldon to want to pay for her meals like a good boyfriend should. But as most of their relationship progressed, it was she who had to force him into things. Sheldon resisted change and only ever budged from his position when he feared loosing her. He'd done it time and again, resisting her until their argument became bad enough that he caved, giving as little as possible but just enough she didn't leave him.

Perhaps she was being unfair to him. He might not act like a typical boyfriend, but in his own way he was sweet and romantic. She loved him for the way he treasured her mind even more than her looks, though it would be nice if he told her she was pretty once in awhile without her having to drag the confession from him.

Amy followed behind Sheldon on the long trek up the stairs. She listened to him as he spoke—something about a recent piece of baloney published citing time travel was impossible and that just had to be wrong—and occasionally agreed with him. As always, Sheldon truly thought she was listening. They stopped outside of his door as he let himself in.

"Good night, Amy," Sheldon said. He gave her a small smile, one he reserved for her. She knew his koala face. But this was his Amy face.

"Good night, Sheldon," she repeated back, standing still and hoping he would kiss her. Knowing it was inevitable. A kiss at the culmination of date night was a part of their relationship agreement, and Sheldon took his contracts seriously.

Checking to see that no one was watching them, Sheldon gave her a quick peck on the lips. She was disappointed the kiss did not last longer but nor was she surprised. Aside from their kiss on the train, he'd never kissed her passionately nor had he expressed a desire to.

She waited for Sheldon to close the door before hurrying across the hall to 4B.

"What's up, Amy?" her gorgeous best friend asked.

"It's Sheldon," she said, and unlike her boyfriend, Penny could see her inner turmoil and instantly invited her in.

"Wine?"

"Yes, please."

Penny poured them both a glass of Merlot and they sat down on the couch. "What did Dr Whack-a-doodle do this time?"

If she wasn't feeling upset, Amy would have eagerly offered to put probes on Penny to determine what part of her mind was activated by idle gossip.

"That's just it. He hasn't done anything."

"And that's a problem because..."

"I'm tired Penny. I want a real relationship that can actually go somewhere and I'm not sure Sheldon can ever give that to me. He fights every step forward in our relationship and I'm tired of it."

Unlike Amy expected, Penny did not appear to be surprised. As patient as she was with Sheldon, even Amy would have to run out of patience at some point.

"What are you saying?"

"I think I should break up with him."

"What!"

Amy was half convinced Penny's loud shriek would draw Sheldon himself across the hall to investigate the source of the sound. Luckily, it was past his bedtime and his desire to sleep outweighed his desire to investigate the loud sound from Penny's room.

"I've been thinking about us for awhile, and I think it's best if I take a step back from him. I'm tired of being hurt."

"That's... Wow, Amy. That's big," Penny said. They'd 'broken up' before they were even dating and Sheldon had bought 25 cats and barricaded himself in his room in response. Now, Penny was not sure how Sheldon would deal with a break up, only it would have to be worse. For whatever reason, the female version of Sheldon Cooper had an undeniable effect on the man.

Penny took a big gulp of her wine. Amy twirled the glass of hers between her fingers but did not drink. She wasn't in the mood.

"Do you think I should go through with it?" Penny was the least educated of their friend group, but when it came to emotions and relationships, Amy often thought her the smartest of them all. Brilliant as she was, Amy relied on Penny's advice. She trusted her completely, at least when it came to relationships.

"I don't know," Penny said. Truthfully, she did not know what Amy saw in Sheldon, only that her best friend was in love with her highly unusual boyfriend. However, she also knew that Sheldon made Amy happy until now. "You need to do what feels right."

Amy sighed. "I should probably be going now," she said. She really did need to go to sleep so she could get an early start at the lab the next day. If she also wanted to leave to escape Penny's further questions, that would simply be a bonus.

They said their goodbyes and Amy left. The drive back to her apartment felt long, but as she made her way up the elevator all alone, she thought the drive was not long enough. At least on the road she had something to focus on other than her dead-end relationship. Up here, her thoughts were her own and she felt them clamping down upon her.

She forced herself to take even breaths as she went through her evening ablutions. Teeth clean and face washed, she settled into her bed. Sleep did not come easily that night. More than once she curled up to her pillow, imaging it was Sheldon instead of feathers that she wrapped her arms around, but then the ridiculousness of the sentiment came crashing down on her as she knew there was no way Sheldon Cooper would ever agree to sleep in the same bed with her let alone cuddle. He did not allow girls in his bedroom, not even his girlfriend. He hated touching other people because of their germs. Combing the two together? There was no way that was ever going to happen.

Her sleeplessness confirmed on thing for her though: Amy might be in love with Sheldon, but she had to break it off before she wasted more time on a relationship that had nowhere to go.


	4. Chapter 4

"Thanks again for doing this for me Ames."

"You're welcome," Amy replied. She bit back the automatic correction to her name. Her cousin knew very well she did not like going by any nicknames yet still insisted on using them.

"I'll be back at 6. See you then, Ames."

"Goodbye Cecile," Amy said sarcastically to her cousin's retreating back. It was just like her to leave without so much as a goodbye. Amy wanted to resent the way Cecile assumed that Amy would have nothing better to do all day on Saturday than babysit, except for the fact that it was true. She did not have anything better to do on a Saturday, which she normally spent alone at her apartment reading Jane Austin or watching Little House on the Prairie. Truth be told, she was actually looking forward to taking care of her cousins.

She closed the door to her apartment and turned to face the two children. They looked at her expectantly, and Amy knew she needed to come up with something to do with them fast. She kept no toys on hand nor did she have coloring books. It was going to be a long day.

"I want to go to the pool, Auntie Amy," the oldest, Jenna, pronounced. Since starting swim lessons, she was quite the pool enthusiast.

"Yes. But your mother didn't bring bathing suits for any of you. Is there anything else you'd like to do?"

She studied the nervous system. Not children. Yet she was eager to babysit them anyways. Cecile might be using her for free babysitting, but Amy found she did not mind. She never babysat as a teenager, and she was looking forward to the experience, a trial run for her future plans per say.

Jenna looked at her younger brother, Mark. "Tea party?" she asked hopefully.

Mark stuck his tongue out. "Ewww. No tea parties, Auntie Amy, please?"

Amy chuckled. Finding a game that both children could agree to was going to be a struggle.

"What about the zoo?" Neither child looked particularly upset by that idea and she put it on the list of things they could do. She was about to make some other suggestions when her phone rung.

She glanced at the caller ID and was surprised to see it was Sheldon. It was right in the middle of paintball time.

"Sheldon. What can I do for you?"

"Leonard and Howard decided to go on a double date and Raj won't drive me to paintball. I need you to take me to paintball, Amy."

Just like her boyfriend to make demands of her without even asking her how she was let alone whether she was busy and able to take him.

"I can't today, Sheldon. I'm babysitting my cousins." Despite her frustration at Sheldon's demand, she was more upset about him intruding into her thoughts just as she needed to figure out what she had to do. After two nights to calm down, Amy was no longer sure breaking up with Sheldon was the right decision as she previously discussed with Penny. She was angry and upset and she may have prematurely jumped to a conclusion.

"But why can't you take me to paintball?"

"I just told you, Sheldon. I'm babysitting my cousins. However, if you like we're going to the zoo and I'll come pick you up."

From Sheldon's tone of voice she imagined him doing his classic eye roll at her. "But today is Saturday. Saturday is paintball day. I can't go to the zoo on paintball day."

"I don't know what to tell you, Sheldon. We're going to the zoo. Would you like to come or not?"

Why was it so frustrating talking to him? Sheldon liked the zoo. It was one of her favorite things to do with him and truth be told she would be happy to take him along with them.

"There will be koala's," she reminded him, and then cursed her inability to stay silent. She was not opposed to him coming, but she did not want to be the one to once again convince him to do something with her. That was the primary issue she had with their relationship. Sheldon did not want the same things as her.

"I do like koala's." She heard the smile in the way he said that short sentence, and despite her frustration her own expression softened.

She looked down when she felt a hand tugging at her skirt. "I want to go to the zoo," Mark pouted.

Amy covered her hand over the phone's mouthpiece, "Just a minute, Mark. I'm on the phone," she said, and turning her attention back to Sheldon said, "Look, Sheldon, would you like to come or not?"

"Yes."

After the fuss he put up about paintball, she was surprised he agreed to disrupt his schedule by going to the zoo instead.

"Very well. I'll be by in half an hour to pick you up."

They quickly said goodbye, and after that Amy hurried the children through the ritual of putting on sunscreen—she did not take skin care lightly—and got them into her car. Both children were excited that they were going to the zoo and repeatedly asked her how long until they got there.

"We're going to pick up someone first, and then we'll go to the zoo," Amy explained for the third time, starting to wonder why she decided on a trip to the zoo in the first place. However, they appeared mildly happy as long as she kept the radio onto the kids station they both agreed on.

Once in the parking lot at Sheldon's apartment, she sent him a quick text telling him she was there. It did not take him long to amble outside and sit down in the car.

"Who're you?" Jenna said as she poked Sheldon on the cheek, and then giggled and retreated back into her seat.

Amy did not know whether to laugh at Sheldon's dumbstruck expression about being unexpectedly touched by a stranger or feel sympathy at the internal struggle he must now be undergoing to deal with the germs.

"This is my boyfriend, Sheldon. Sheldon, these are Jenna and Mark, my cousin Cecile's children."

"You did not tell me there would be other people going with us," Sheldon told her.

It was Amy's turn to roll her eyes. "I told you before, Sheldon, I was babysitting today."

"Auntie's boyfriend looks like a preying mantis. Preying mantis's go click click click." Mark imitated pincers with his fingers and broke down laughing. Sheldon seemed frozen, at loss for words.

Rather than figure out how to deal with the unexpected addition to their party, Sheldon instead moved to turn the radio off.

As soon as it was off, Jenna began complaining and Amy turned it back on. "Leave it, Sheldon. They want to listen to the radio."

"But I don't want to listen to the radio," Sheldon whined.

Amy had it. She did not want to listen to her boyfriend complain even more than the children in the car. "Three against one. We're listening to the radio."

She was glad when he did not argue further. Perhaps she was being unfairly curt with him, and surprising him with relatives he'd never met was perhaps an unwise thing to do given her boyfriend's reluctance to meet any and all of her family members on previous occasions. He needed time to analyze what everything meant and she did not give it to him.

The drive to the zoo seemed to take forever, but once they were there the three children, because in this instance she counted her boyfriend as more of a child than an adult, all became easily excited.

She sensed an argument about to break out as Sheldon outlined the optimally efficient path to take through the zoo while Jenna declared she absolutely must see the cheetahs first. Thankfully Mark was happy to go along with whatever his sister wanted as long as they got to see the apes after the cheetahs.

"Cheetah. Cheetah. Cheetah," Jenna repeated, as if the repetition would ensure they saw the cheetah's first.

"Apes next, please," Mark said.

Sheldon rolled his eyes. "No. Clearly we have to see the birds first, and then we can see the elephants—"

"—Cheetah. Cheetah. Cheetah—"

"—No. You aren't listening to me. We have to—"

"—Cheetah—"

"—then elephants, rhinos, lions, tigers—"

"—Cheetah—"

"—Enough!" Amy finally yelled, and seeing the shocked expressions, she quieted a bit. "Stop talking."

Grabbing the map from Sheldon, she studied it for a moment. "Here's what we'll do—" she leveled a dangerous glare at Sheldon when it appeared he was about to protest "—We'll start with the cats so you can see the cheetahs, and then we can go counter clockwise to the Apes." Both Jenna and Mark appeared satisfied but Sheldon appeared a bit distraught. "Then we can take a break for lunch here, and continue onto the koalas and birds."

The two children easily agreed. Unsurprisingly, it was Sheldon who protested her plans. "But Amy, that means we'd have to go counterclockwise."

"Your point, Sheldon?" She crossed her arms over her chest. She once thought she had nearly unlimited patience, but in the recent weeks when it came to Sheldon she felt her usual patience deserting her.

"We always go clockwise. We can't suddenly go counter clockwise. If we go counter clockwise we have to eat lunch at a non-optimal time."

Amy looked at the two children. They did not appear particularly bothered by the heated discussion between her and Sheldon, but neither did she want to expose them to an argument. Cecile would never trust her with the children again if some kind of incident occurred.

"If it matters that much to you, Sheldon. Then you can go clockwise. We're going counter clockwise."

"But I can't go by myself, Amy," Sheldon protested.

"Then come with us."

Sheldon opened his mouth to argue, but her no-nonsense stare told him any further arguments he could pose would be pointless and ignored.

"Very well," he agreed. Any pouting he might have contemplated continuing disappeared at the sight of the cats. Koala's were his favorite animal, but he admired cats as well. Sheldon even found that he could talk to Jenna about the big cats.

Trouble came when they got to the apes. Amy was happy to look at the monkeys, easily her favorite part of the zoo. She began telling Mark and Jenna about her work with monkeys, and though they did not understand most of what she spoke about, they still laughed at the funny antics the monkey's often perpetuated. However, the easy peace was disturbed when a large group of people moved in front of them, blocking off their view of the monkeys.

Mark, not wanting to give up his view of his favorite animal, turned to Sheldon and held his arms up. "Up. Up. Up." He demanded. Laughing, he then said, "Piggy-back please."

Sheldon looked affronted. Amy watched Sheldon's facial muscles tense as he struggled with himself to find an appropriate answer to the question.

"No."

"Please," Mark begged. Amy could not stand the sad look on Mark's face, and though she would offer the boy a piggyback ride herself, Sheldon's superior height would lend a greater advantage to Mark's ultimate goal of watching the monkeys.

"Please, Sheldon," Amy said, "It's just a piggyback."

"I should never have come," Sheldon muttered, and not particularly quietly.

Amy crossed her arms in front of her chest. Was it his goal to make the day as miserable for everyone as possible?

"You're here now, Sheldon. Will you or will you not give Mark a piggyback ride."

"Do I have to?" In Sheldon's mind, that was the next step in escaping from an unpleasant situation. She knew he did not like touching people, but this was a child who just wanted to see the monkeys. She was not asking anything monumental of him and yet he was still blowing everything out of proportion.

"Just forget it," Amy told him. Turning to Mark, she said, "How about Auntie Amy gives you a piggyback."

Mark knew what to do. He launched himself towards Amy and waited for her to bend down for him to hop up. When Amy righted herself, she found him heavier than she expected, but she would be able to hold him up for a few minutes at least. At first, Mark kept a death grip with his arms around her throat, but as he observed the monkeys moving about their enclosure, he grew braver and began to excitedly talk about what they were doing as he pointed to them.

Unfortunately for Amy that was not the last of their problems. While Mark appeared content to watch the monkeys indefinitely, Jenna and Sheldon became bored and hungry, neither of which was good but together was quite problematic. However, when Amy suggested to Mark that they go get lunch, his equally vehement protests against leaving had Amy conflicted.

After yet another round of compromises, she finally managed to get them to the Sheldon-approved lunch spot. The decision of what to eat was once more fraught with peril, and Amy navigated that too. What was supposed to be a fun day for everyone was a decidedly exhausting day for her and it was only half over. Amy always loved going to the zoo but for once she greatly anticipated leaving at closing.

They worked their way through the park as Amy became increasingly skilled at negotiating between the rest of the group. By the time they reached the koalas, she thought she just might leave the zoo unscathed after all.

Her luck was not destined to hold out. As Sheldon became enraptured in the koalas, she could not help but admire his handsome face, made all the more beautiful to her by the blissfully happy expression as he looked at the koalas. She wistfully wished she would be the cause of that expression someday but knew it would never be. She was not a koala and could not compete with them in Sheldon's mind. Why was she resolved on breaking up with him? She wondered. He was handsome, sexy, and she loved his mind. Even though he was not excited by the prospect of meeting members of her family, he adapted to the children after a fashion and did not seem to mind their presence anymore. He might be reluctant but he did try. He would make a good father someday.

The two children were happy to watch the koalas as well, though they kept referencing koalas on tv shows and in children's books. The trouble came when an elderly lady approached them.

Excuse me," the stranger said, "I don't mean to intrude, but the four of you remind me a lot about when I used to come here with my family. I hope you don't mind me saying that you and your husband have a very cute family."

A contented smile settled over Amy's face as she thanked the older woman and watched her go on her way. Though the day was challenging, it was not without a certain degree of charm. Here she was with Sheldon and her cousins. He might not be the best with children, but he did become more accommodating when she refused to put up with his methodical need to control everything. A small part of her daydreamed about what it would be like when she and Sheldon took their children to the zoo. Would it be much like that day? Amy having to be the peacemaker and yet still being able to have a good time even if it was rather straining. He would make a good father. For all his protests, she knew it was a big deal for him to accept the children's choice in radio and allow their favorite animals to take precedence over his when she decided the viewing order. With Sheldon, she knew things could have gone much worse.

Once the elderly lady was out of sight, however, Sheldon turned on Amy. "You lied," he accused her. "I'm not comfortable with lies. Why would you lie, Amy?"

"I did not lie," she protested.

"Yes you did. You thanked the lady when she said we were married and have a cute family. We are not married and are not a family. Ergo, you lied."

His logic, while impeccable, did little to appeal to her. Perhaps she was more tired from the day than she ought to be, but could she never catch a break when it came to him and his antics. "Fine. I didn't correct her. But I didn't lie, Sheldon."

"A lie of omission is still a lie," Sheldon explained to her, "and besides, I'm not sure I'm capable of sustaining this lie. Jenna and Mark look nothing like me. She'll see straight through our lie."

This was Sheldon going into panic mode.

Amy took a steadying breath before talking. "Sheldon, we don't need to worry about it. She thought we were a family and moved on. It's not a big deal. We'll probably never see her again and—"

"But you can't be sure we won't ever see her again. What if we see her again and she asks about our children? What do we say then, Amy? Have you even thought about this?"

"Then we tell her the truth. It's not a big deal, Sheldon. Move on."

She really could not deal with him but she also did not want to argue in front of the children. She bit her lip and took two deep breaths to steady herself enough to say, "It's time to leave if we want to be back at my apartment before Cecile returns."

Evasion was a technique Sheldon often used, and she felt a certain degree of satisfaction in using that technique against him.

The car ride back to her apartment progressed much like the first one, but Amy was thankful the day of walking around outside had everyone tired enough that they all fell asleep in the car. Turning the music off, Amy enjoyed the short period of peace she was going to get. Without time to drop Sheldon off at his apartment, she went straight to hers. Sheldon would not be happy with the arrangement, but as soon as Cecile came and picked her children up Amy would drive him back to his apartment.

Waking the three of them up once she parked at her apartment complex was not a chore Amy enjoyed. It involved a great deal of whining about being woken up and complaining about sore feet from walking but she still managed to herd them up the elevator and into her room. Rummaging through her desk, she found some paper and colored pencils and gave them to the children to play with. Sheldon sat stiffly on her couch.

It was not too long before she heard a knock of the door and went to let Cecile in.

"How did it go, Ames?" her cousin asked her.

"Good. We wen't to the zoo today. They're pretty tired out for you."

Cecile laughed. "Thank you. I really appreciate you taking them today."

Amy smiled. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure."

Once Cecile walked into the apartment, she stopped once she spotted Sheldon. Seeing to whom her cousin's gaze was directed, Amy hastily made the introduction. "Cecile, this is my boyfriend, Sheldon. Sheldon, this is my cousin, Cecile."

Cecile held her hand out for Sheldon to shake. "Pleased to meet you, Sheldon. Ames told us so much about you, but honestly, we thought she made you up like the last one. What was his name again Amy?"

"Cecile," Amy said, not wanting to get into a fight.

"Right. Armin. The miniature horse breeder. Anyways, Sheldon, I'm glad to see you're real."

Sheldon looked at the proffered hand in distaste. Would his torment never end? However, when Amy looked at him expectantly he gulped and briefly shook her hand, quickly pulling back and excusing himself to the bathroom to wash his hands of germs. By the time he got back, Cecile had already collected her children and left.

When Sheldon got back from the bathroom she was sitting on the couch waiting for him. She gestured to the empty left side of the sofa. "Sit down, Sheldon. We need to talk."

"Oh boy." She could envision Sheldon gulping.

She knew he hated conversations about emotions but this was necessary. She would not force him into something he really did not want but she did not have much of a choice. She took a steadying breath, already knowing Sheldon would not react well to what she was about to say.

"Sheldon, do you see a future for us?" She had to ask. "After the way you reacted to the lady who told us . . . well . . . I just need to know, do you see us having a future together?"

"That is an uncomfortable question." Sheldon attempted to sidestep answering.

"Just answer the question," she demanded. She needed to know the answer. She was certain she did not want to know, but for her peace of mind she had to.

"Amy." Sheldon started and fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch. Sitting right on the edge, he looked like he was about to flee, and his twitching gave credence to that notion. "I think about a lot of things. Perhaps you should specify."

Amy took a deep breath. She could not do this. Despite the drawbacks, the day was overall quite pleasant. Sheldon made an effort to be nice and she appreciated it. She understood just how rare it was for him to compromise. When it came to their friends, he rarely if ever budged. For her he made more of an effort to break through his shell and interact like a normal person. She needed to give him credit. She needed to be patient. She did not want to admit it but his nervous expression over the turn of the conversation had her heart melting. She wanted to lean towards him and kiss the nervousness away and yet she could not. They only kissed on date nights and special occasions as outlined by the relationship agreement. If she tried to kiss him now, Sheldon would balk. He lived by the document.

Repressing her urge to kiss him was difficult but it was an urge she was accustomed to restraining around him.

"Actually, Sheldon. I don't want to do this now. I think I'll drive you home."

"Good. You can take me to the grocery store on the way."

Amy really did not want to go to the grocery store but she did not want to argue with him either. "Fine. We'll go to the grocery store."

"But first we need to go to Pottery Barn."

"Why Pottery Barn?"

"I need to buy more towels."

"Can't you do that later, Sheldon. I'm tired."

"But I need to go to Pottery Barn," Sheldon protested.

"Fine," Amy groaned. It would likely be a short trip as well.

"And we also need to go to—"

"—Don't push your luck," Amy snapped. She just wanted to drive him home and talk to Penny. She wanted to eat an early dinner and lie in bed and think about where her life was going and if Sheldon could be a part of it. He would make a great father, but as he admitted he had no desire for children and marriage and even living together was in some far off distant future as far as he was concerned. She waited for him for a long time, but she was done waiting. She wanted to start the next phase of her life and that involved more than he could comfortably offer.

"PMS. Strange. You're a week early, Amy." Just like him to know she was upset about something but to entirely miss the reason why.

"I'm not PMSing Sheldon." She loved him but hated his habit of blaming errant female emotions on hormonal cycles, as if he could not possibly be the cause of her anger.

Pottery barn took longer than Amy anticipated, but they made up for that time in the grocery store, and it was not long until she helped Sheldon carry his groceries up to his apartment.

Penny and Leonard were there when they entered. Penny gave Amy a wink. "You've been together for a long time today. Hot date?" she asked suggestively.

The suggestive comment went right above Sheldon's head but Amy knew what her bestie was asking. "We took my cousins to the zoo," she said instead, already thinking of ways to get Penny alone away from Leonard and Sheldon where they could about the aforementioned men.

Leonard and Sheldon rapidly took over the conversation, and Penny looked pointedly at Amy before rolling her eyes. Seeing that her bestie did not appear happy, however, she subtly excused the both of them to her apartment.

"What did Dr Wack-a-doodle do this time?"

Amy shrugged and accepted the wine Penny offered. Just a glass. She still had to drive back to her apartment.

Amy did not hold back on her explanation. She told Penny about the fighting and the difficulties, and she told her everything about the old lady's mistake and Sheldon's gross overreaction.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Penny said and hugged Amy.

"I just don't know what to do. I love him and I think he would be a great father someday but he's not interested right now and I'm not sure I can wait any longer. I want children, Penny."

Penny hugged Amy, providing the love and support Sheldon failed at. "I don't want to break up with him but if I don't and I never have children because he's never ready, then I'm not sure I'll be happy either. But the thought of breaking up with him just hurts so much. I don't know what to do."

"You have to go with what your heart feels," Penny tried to give advice. The truth was she might be an expert of sorts when it came to relationships but what Amy and Sheldon had was different from any of her experiences she did not really know what advice to give.

"My heart doesn't know what it wants."

Penny's listening ear soon drew out all of Amy's fears and insecurities, her wants and needs and desires all at war with each other and Sheldon in the center of every one.

"You need to talk to him, sweetie. You two have always been good at talking." Penny's advice would have been helpful had Amy not already come to that conclusion on her own.

"I know but whenever I try to talk to him I just forget what I wanted to talk about or I can't go through with it."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I don't know what to tell you then."

So much for getting advice from her bestie. Amy was well and truly alone.

* * *

 **AN** : I'm amazed by all the words of encouragement I've been getting. Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed or reviewed.


	5. Chapter 5

"Amy," Sheldon whined. All he'd asked her to do was drive him to the comic book store but Amy had enough. She wanted to talk to him and had been trying to bring up the conversation for weeks but any time she came close he distracted her.

And no, not in a dirty way that she would have enjoyed.

"Stop it, Sheldon. I'm sick of you acting like a child and refusing to have a serious discussion with me."

"But we have serious discussions all the other time. Just yesterday we were discussing neutrino detection. "

Amy rolled her eyes. Leave it to Sheldon to not understand her intentions. For a genius, he was really disconnected with the real world sometimes.

"I don't mean about your work, Sheldon. I meant about us."

"Oh." That effectively shut her boyfriend up for a few seconds but his mind rapidly came up with ways to fill the silence. "Well you'll need to be more specific, Amy. What do you mean by 'serious'? Date night? Do you want to alter the paradigm of our relationship agreement? Is this about Leonard not wearing socks yesterday?"

"Sheldon!" Amy couldn't listen to him ramble on and on about things that she did not care about. "I meant about where our relationship is going. What do you see happening in the future?"

"If I invent time travel in the future then—"

"Nope. Try again." Amy crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to unleash the full force of her frustration. That would scare Sheldon away.

"In the case of the zombie apocalypse—"

"Sheldon," Amy warned him. Her tone was dangerous and she could see the way Sheldon's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Please, just tell me seriously where you see us in the future."

Amy knew when Sheldon was confused, and rare as those times were, she could see it in him now. She expected him to fumble his way through the conversation using diversionary techniques and vague scientific answers that would confuse Penny but not her. She was not going to allow him to get away with it. Not this time.

"Amy. Why don't you save us time guessing and tell me which aspect of the future we're talking about."

Amy had to admit his request was reasonable, though that did not outweigh her frustration that he thought time travel and zombie apocalypses constituted 'serious' without even a thought to the more traditional things associated with the term. Maybe that right there was her answer. Sheldon did not see a real future with her, just one filled with his sci-fi and fantasy. However, she would humor his request. He was right. It would get him to talk about what she wanted to talk about without having to dance around the other.

"Do you ever see us getting married?"

Amy was an expert in reading Sheldon, and she was certain he was surprised.

Sheldon blinked at her in response before launching into his explanation. "Of course."

That surprised her. She knew Sheldon did not really believe in marriage, especially when he hid behind his relationship agreement, but he sounded certain in his answer and she knew he was not capable of lying that easily. He really did see a future where they were married.

"Really?" she asked hopefully. She did not dare to believe him yet until she could be certain of what she heard.

Sheldon shook his head and gave his usual snort of derision when someone said something stupid in front of him—though he usually never had need to aim that particular gesture in her direction—and Amy tried not to be offended. She knew Sheldon did not know how his callous and straightforward behavior could be very hurtful. He never meant to hurt her with his words and actions, but for a man who never tried to hurt her he was surprisingly adept at it.

"Obviously. I've calculated that at the current rate our relationship is progressing, we will have coitus in approximately 0.8 years, which will accelerate our relationship and I will propose to you in 3.2 years, culminating in our marriage and you moving in with me."

He said it matter of factly and Amy did not doubt he meant it. In fact, she was surprised he saw them engaging in coitus in less than a year. And he wanted to marry her and move in with him? That sounded perfect.

Except for the timeframe. She was already in the middle of her thirties and she did not want to wait that long for their relationship to progress any more. By the time they were finally married, how much longer would it take him to want children? Her timeframe would be much more limited by that point. She'd been patient with him for years, but the question was did she love him enough to wait. A year ago her answer would have been a resounding yes, but that was before her biological clock began ticking, metaphorically speaking.

Still, she could not help but smile affectionately at him and that he had spent time thinking about their future as well.

"Now will you take me to the comic book store?"

Of course he had to go and ruin the mood with his talk of the comic book store.

"We're not done with this conversation, Sheldon."

He hung his head like a dejected puppy and Amy was about to cave in. But given how hard she had to fight to even start the conversation, she could not give up on it now. Not when there was still a chance of furthering the conversation.

"Fine," Sheldon sighed. He clearly was not happy, but he had not run off to his room yet which was proof enough he was still willing to talk.

"I want to marry you too, someday," Amy told him. Sheldon often needed to be told the basic things explicitly.

"Good. Now can we—"

Her glare shut him up immediately. "I want to have children." That was not the most eloquent way of putting it and she did not lead Sheldon into that part of the conversation. It was probably a mistake. Surprising him caused him to either shut down or run away. She'd just ruined it by her bluntness. She was not mistaken.

"Oh." Sheldon seemed less than happy by her statement. He stood still and if it was possible to hear him think, she did. He had no answer. No response.

Amy really wanted to know what was going on in that intelligent brain of his and she was too afraid to ask.

"Question: Will this happen after marriage?"

"Yes," Amy said. She knew she would not be ready to have children until she could be completely certain in the stability of hers and Sheldon's relationship. They both grew up with parents who bickered too frequently and she did not wish that same fate upon their future child.

She saw Sheldon adding the new variable into his equations, or whatever it was he was thinking about, likely analyzing the impact children would have on future scenarios.

"Follow up question: Are children necessary to your happiness?"

What was that supposed to mean? Children weren't necessary to his happiness? Did he care that she was happy?

"Yes, Sheldon!" she shouted. How could he not know she wanted children? They'd talked about the subject before, but then it had always felt more like a joke than anything else, but he still should have known. Besides, they were in a committed relationship. At least, that's where she thought they were, but with how long it was taking Sheldon to think about this, she wasn't sure anymore.

She saw as Sheldon obviously reached some conclusion and he seemed to deflate. Oh no. He didn't want children. She'd pushed him too far. He was going to break up with her.

 _Stop!_ her brain yelled at her. She'd been thinking of breaking up with him. Why should him agreeing to the idea upset her? She already had a fair idea of what would happen to their relationship if he never wanted children. It was a deal breaker for her.

"Are you willing to compromise?"

Amy defensively crossed her arms over her chest and took calming breaths. He could be insensitive. Maybe this was just one of those times. It was going to be alright. Focus. She had to focus and talk to him. She was the one who brought up the subject and she would finish it.

"Specify."

"We don't have children and you find a way to be okay with that."

If it was possible her heart would have bursted.

Her logical brain told her to come up with a counter proposal. It was the way she successfully dealt with him in the past and it could work again to reach a satisfactory compromise between the two. Her emotions won over.

"Why don't you want children?" _Not even one_ , she added angrily but couldn't say aloud.

Sheldon took a calming breath. He looked too calm, to sure of himself, that it made her angry. How could she be moments away from falling to pieces and there he was calm and logical as ever. It was not fair.

"Amy," Sheldon said. He finally saw that she was mad at him. She tried not to blame him for his inability to tell what others were feeling. She really did. But it was hard sometimes, especially when his callousness hurt more than words spoken in anger ever could.

"Why, Sheldon?"

This was it. She needed to know and he was moments away from telling her. God help her if this was the one issue she would never be able to change his mind on.

"You know that my work has not won me my Nobel Prize yet."

"So?"

"And I estimate that I will need another five to seven years to make a breakthrough. However, if we have a child I anticipate loosing a significant portion of my time dedicated to research, prohibiting me from making the break through that will turn into my Nobel Prize. I am unwilling to give up my Nobel Prize. Ergo, we cannot have children."

The Nobel Prize? That's what his unwillingness was about.

"You spend your weekends playing video games and reading comic books and then complain that having children will decrease your productivity and prevent you from...I can't even say it."

Sheldon stood straight. "What is it, Amy? Just tell me."

Amy threw her hands in the air. "I'd love to," she snarked because it was better than giving into the way she actually felt.

She wanted to cry. She fought the tears. Thankfully, they did not come.

"Go on then."

Of all the things he could have said, that was the most insensitive yet.

"I can't do this anymore. Goodbye Sheldon."

Amy stormed out of his apartment, and had she turned around, she would have seen the stunned physicist looking like a lost child at what happened. He opened and closed his mouth a few times but no words ever escaped.

Outside of 4A, Amy could not even muster the energy to walk down the stairs. She went straight over to Penny's apartment and knocked on the door. Penny looked like she was about to tell Amy to go away—damn her and Leonard's perfect relationship—until she saw the tears.

"What happened, Amy?" Penny had never seen Amy that upset before, and she had seen Amy very upset with Sheldon on numerous occasions. "Did you guys break up?"

Amy shook her head no. "Not yet. But I think we have to."

That was all it took for Penny to usher Amy inside of 4B for a long talk and to call Bernadette over. It was time for another girls night.


	6. Chapter 6

Amy did not speak to Sheldon all week. More to the point, she did not want to speak to him. She might have abruptly left, but no matter how she tried to look at it, it was his fault. She might but the one who needed children, she might be the one who initiated the conversation, but it was Sheldon who was unwilling to talk to her. It was Sheldon who was unwilling to compromise.

But that wasn't fair to him. She knew he compromised to make her happy. On more than one occasion he went out of his comfort zone to do what would make her happy even though she knew he hated it. But this was somehow different. She did not want him unhappy because she forced him to compromise. She knew how much the Nobel Prize meant to him and she also knew she could not ask him to give that up. What she wasn't so sure about was how having children would prevent him from getting the Nobel Prize, but whatever went on in Sheldon's brain told him otherwise.

She knew that any individual scientist had a long shot at the Nobel Prize, though some might be closer than others, and that even without children and regardless of how many breakthroughs Sheldon made he was unlikely to win the prize. She never told him as much because she could not stand to see him in pain, but there it was. It was a dream of his, childish to a degree. But that was the way the world worked. There were too many exceptional physicists and too few prizes to give out. Sheldon might be particularly brilliant, but there was more to the decision than that.

And if they did have children and Sheldon never won the Nobel Prize? What then? He might be willing to compromise with her now to avoid loosing her, but in the end he would resent her. She knew he would. He would blame her for never fulfilling his life's dream and his disappointment would make her feel guilty about the what if. What if she was okay never having children? What if she had not pushed him on the matter? What if she had been able to settle for what Sheldon wanted and push her own desires to the side? She would feel guilty for forcing him into something he did not want, he would resent her for destroying the direction he saw his career going, and their love would turn into hatred.

The thought of Sheldon hating her was too much to bear. Then why wasn't it so simple? She was unwilling to compromise, stuck in a rut she could not get out of. She could not give up on having children, even for Sheldon. She also could not force him to have children with her either, tempting though it may sound. Then he'd resent her and that thought was as unappealing as the former.

She'd know before, but now she knew with greater certainty. She had to break up with Sheldon. It was the only choice left open to her. She would break up with him, and once she felt comfortable she would start dating someone else. Someone who would be willing to have children. Someone who wanted children. That was the only possible future for her given the only other alternatives. Breaking up with him would not be easy. She did not want to do it. But she had to. For the sanity of them both.

Yet she had surprised him with the question. Sheldon did tend to freak out when he felt his world was spinning out of control. With some time to think on it, he might have a different answer. A different reaction. He deserved a second chance once he had more time to think things through. After all, she'd had months to think about children. He had minutes.

Their fifth anniversary dinner was coming up and he was taking her out per their relationship agreement. She'd try to broach the subject again, and if time to think made him more amenable, she would be willing to continue their relationship. The time frame he saw was too drawn out for her tastes, but she was willing to agree to a slower time frame if it meant she could have Sheldon instead of someone else. The truth was, there was no one else she met who she had ever desired as much as Sheldon. She did not want to give up on the passion and the unique little quirks they had. She liked them.

But what if time only solidified his opinion? What then? The longer she prolonged the inevitable, the harder it would become to go through with it and the more time she would loose.

And what if she did break up with him and then was unable to find anyone else she wanted a future with? She wasn't sure she wanted to risk the uncertainty of a future that might never happen for the relative security of what she had with Sheldon. Penny and Bernadette listened to her worries and did their best to advise her, but she also knew her other two friends could only be of limited help.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Some of the dialog comes straight from 8x24.

* * *

Amy did not see Sheldon again until their date night. This date night was their fifth anniversary and fell on a Friday, but Sheldon was required to take her out to a romantic dinner as specified by their relationship agreement. He texted her the night before to confirm their plans, and she easily agreed.

She would use their anniversary to evaluate how things were progressing. Perhaps she was reading too much into Sheldon's reluctance. He needed time to think about the changes she wanted. Once he had time to think he would be more reasonable. She knew him and his habits. Time was what he needed. They would have a pleasant date and she could forget about her worries. He cared about her and she for him. She did not want anyone else. They could make it work. That was the strength of their relationship.

She spent an age choosing the perfect outfit, a red dress with a pink shirt—conservative enough she would feel comfortable and yet tighter fitting than her normal mode of dress. She tried to tell herself she wanted to look nice for herself, but if she was honest she dressed up for Sheldon, though with his track record, he wasn't likely to even notice the extra effort she put into her appearance. As she suspected, when she picked him up he did not even comment. He barely even seemed to look. Just once it would be nice if his eyes lingered on her. She may dress more conservatively than her best friend but she felt more comfortable that way. Still, she wanted Sheldon to look at her and appreciate her for something other than her mind. If his eyes drifted to admire her chest or her ass, she would not complain. However, all he seemed to notice was her face.

She drove him to the restaurant he choose and had to admit it was fairly romantic. He spent the evening talking about trains, but he did so fondly and she really did not mind listening to him. He might talk about himself a disproportionate amount of the time but he was cute while doing it. She made a few comments but mostly listened to him. His voice was soothing. And that half smile that formed when he was happy. It was hard to look away.

After dinner, she drove him back to his apartment and followed him up. They were finally alone. She sat down on the middle of the couch right next to his spot. Sheldon prepared them two mugs of tea and joined her. She took a few sips from her beverage before setting it down.

Now was the time to talk to him and evaluate. This was their fifth anniversary as a couple. It would not be inappropriate to discuss where their relationship was going.

Sheldon, too, looked like he wanted to say something. "I had a nice night," he finally said.

Amy smiled at him. That was more of an admission than she would usually get. "I had a nice night too," she said. His face was a few inches from hers and she resisted the urge to kiss him, but how she wanted to. It was their anniversary and the relationship agreement required Sheldon to kiss her on their anniversary.

Sheldon looked like he wanted to say something else. He didn't. Instead he leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. She briefly stiffened in surprise but quickly relaxed into his kiss. She felt tingles on her leg where Sheldon rested his hands and her arms automatically lifted to hold onto his shoulders and pull him closer. When Sheldon kissed her, her entire brain turned off and all she could think about was his lips and hers and the heat radiating from every point of contact. She wanted to sink into him, become as close to him as possible and never let go. She wanted to go further, oh so much further. She wanted to be completely enveloped by his scent and touch. If she could just have his reassurance that he wanted her she could continue at their slow pace. That might not be what she wanted but she could compromise. Settle for promises of a future and wait in the present. For him she could be patient. She could wait. She wanted to wait until he was ready. Comfortable.

She did not want to pull back from him but lack of air made it a necessity. She smiled up at him, every negative emotion a thing of the past.

"Can you believe its been five years since our first date?"

He gave his cute half smile again. "I know. Do you think I should start watching _The Flash_ tv show?"

She tried not to let her disappointment at him ruin their nice evening but it was hard not to when he preferred to talk about superheroes instead of kissing her.

"That's what you're thinking about?" she asked incredulously.

"One of the things."

"Are any of them me?" Why did she ask that? She was not sure she could bear it if none of them were her.

Completely oblivious to her turmoil, Sheldon smiled and said, "Yes. I though I can't decide if I should watch _The Flash_ tv show. I know. I'll ask Amy." There was a pregnant pause. She was not sure how to react. It was as if he thrust an imaginary dagger into her heart and twisted it with that one careless comment.

"Anyways," he said and leaned back in to kiss her.

She couldn't. Not right now when she was mad at him. She pushed him away and leaned backwards to put more distance between them. She shook her head. Rejecting a kiss from him should have been an impossibility for her and yet it was reality. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Sheldon's smiled disappeared. His face now impassive, he agreed, "You're right. You did kind of kill the mood."

He walked over to the kitchen and Amy watched him go, waiting a moment before going to join him.

"I didn't kill anything. You did, talking about your stupid tv show." How could he put this on her? They were in the middle of making out and he had to go and ruin it.

Insulting Sheldon's likes never worked well, and Amy knew her misstep when he turned to face her and indignantly said, "Excuse me. Starting to watch a television show that might run for years isn't a decision I take lightly. I'm wrestling with a big commitment issue here."

He could not be serious. By his earnest expression, though, he was entirely earnest. She could not believe it. He was unwilling to consider marriage and children but a tv show counted as a serious commitment. Fed up with having to watch her words around him to not scare him away, she eyed him furiously. "Really? That's the commitment issue you're wrestling with? Sheldon, do you understand the irony of your fixation on a man with super speed while after five years all I can get out of you is a distracted make out session on a couch?"

Danger, her brain warned her but her pent up anger did not listen to her more logical side. She wanted to rage and blame him for everything that went wrong in their relationship. It was his fault. Never willing to give her what she wanted and deserved.

Still oblivious to her temper, he said, "Irony's not really my strong. But I have been getting better with sarcasm if you want to give that a try."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh sure. I'd love to."

Sheldon waited for a moment. "Whenever you're ready," he prompted.

He could not be serious. She did not want to do this but she had to. She had to tell him the truth. She could not keep deceiving him any longer with her inability to voice her frustrations.

"I want children, Sheldon."

Sheldon looked puzzled, and she hated how endearing that expression was. It made her want to melt even when she was angry at him.

"How is that sarcastic?" Sheldon's inability to understand social nuances was often cute but in this situation it only hurt her further.

"I wasn't being sarcastic, Sheldon. I want more. I want marriage and children and I don't want to keep waiting. I'm getting older and I can't wait anymore."

Sheldon seemed stumped on how to answer her. _Please, Sheldon, just say something. Anything_. She silently begged.

"But Amy, we can't have children. I don't want them. They'll interfere with my—"

"—Nobel Prize. I know. You already told me." She interrupted him but did not feel bad about it. His expression was serious and hers no less so. This was a big problem in their relationship, a large hurdle that no matter how much she might love making out with him, nothing could overcome it. She needed children. He refused to have them. There was no suitable compromise that could ever appease both parties. On lesser issues she was more willing to go along with what he wanted to keep him happy but not this time. This was one issue on which she could not bend, and from the looks of it he refused to move either.

"I think I should go now," she said quietly. When had their evening gone wrong? She was upset and angry and his presence made it so she could hardly think rationally. She knew she needed to get away, to get space from him. She could not help but feel hurt that as she left he made no move to chase after her or to protest her leaving. He just let her go as he always had, convinced of his own righteousness and refusing to apologize for something that was his fault. How could he? What was wrong with her? Was she crazy for keeping going back to him time and again when moments like this showed his progress was slow and forced.

She drove back to her apartment, and during the drive she was lost in thoughts and was confused when she found herself parking the lot without even realizing she was there. A shower helped sooth her thoughts but all she felt in the mood to do was sit on her couch and look distantly into the air. No tv. No books. She needed to think. If there was one thing she did not want it was to talk to Sheldon.

Her fingers itched to touch her phone and send him some kind of message, but that would once again have her bending to his desires and that was the problem. She could not keep giving into him. She had to be strong. She needed to sort out her feelings to determine what was going on.

Eventually she forced herself to go to bed though sleep was a long time coming. She spend most of the night turning over in her bed as if she could finally find the position that would allow her to sleep but she knew deep down sleep would be hard-pressed that night. Her mind was too awake, too active, for sleep. She had a lot to consider and she felt a drowning sensation as her time was running out. She was on the surface of a clock, being chased by the second hand as it ticked its way across the surface. Everything was moving to quickly and to think she set it all in motion.

Breakfast and lunch seemed things of the past and even though it was a weekend she went into her lab where she could loose herself in her work. There was no room for uncertain feelings about her future with Sheldon, and whether he could even be a part of that future anymore, as she nimbly performed a dissection. Her fingers had to be steady and her mind focused or she would loose months worth of effort and destroy thousands of dollars worth of experimentation.

By the time dinner came, she was once more alone in her apartment. She wished someone else was there, but when she tried to call Penny to come over it went straight to voicemail. It was over twenty-four hours since she left Sheldon's apartment and she had not had any contact with him since. She was sure he was being stubborn again, waiting for her to cave and apologize to him. The nerve. She would not. She could not. She could not keep repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results. That was the definition of insanity and Amy Farrah Fowler was not insane.

She heard the tell tale sound of an incoming Skype call on her computer and sat down at her desk. Without even looking at the screen she knew it could only be one person. Sheldon.

She answered it. "Hello."

"Hello," Sheldon said. He looked uncertain, a rare occurrence for her boyfriend. She could not think when she was with him. When she looked at him. Still uncertain what she wanted, she knew what she needed to do. She needed space to figure everything out. "I've been thinking a lot about relationships and how difficult they can be and—"

"I've been thinking about them too, Sheldon," she interrupted him. "Being your girlfriend is so challenging. Emotionally. Physically. I've been incredibly patient for years." That was the truth. She saw Sheldon shake his head.

"Strongly disagree. Go on."

How dare he say she was not patient. Any other girl would have pushed him for a lot more a long time ago but she did not. She resisted her feelings because she knew he hid away from the world rather than expose his delicate emotions for all and sundry. He protected himself from being hurt and his habits were deeply ingrained; it would take years for him to push past that. She understood and gave him time when she suspected no one else in her position would have.

However, she did not want to derail the conversation away from her chosen purpose. This once she could let it go.

"Okay. Well. This isn't easy to say because I love you but I need some time to take a step back and reevaluate our situation. I...I don't know if I can continue this knowing we'll never have children." There. She said it. She should feel some degree of success but all she felt was hollow, like some essential part of her went missing and she could not find it.  
Sheldon's face dropped and she had to force herself to stay steady in her resolve. She could not back down again because he was upset. That was where their problems originated. She accommodated him too much and it was time for her to stand up for herself and do what she needed without thought for him.

"Oh." He had nothing else to say. Seriously? Not even a selfish protest? Perhaps she had misjudged him.

She mentally berated herself. This was her problem, the unending cycle she could never break out over. Anger and frustration and impatience over come by love and affection and desire to give into him at the expense of her own feeling. No longer. She could not keep living with her maze of uncertainties. It was not a healthy way to live and she was sick of second guessing herself. A break from him was the only possible way for her to evaluate what she actually wanted in life.

"I hope you understand." She really wanted him to though she knew he would not.

"Okay." His nonchalance aggravated her for some reason. Her expectations of him were unrealistic. She wanted him to rant and rave and fight for her. Instead, he calmly agreed to her idea. Just once she wanted him to fight for her, not the other way around. She gave and gave and gave and he always ever took. If she kept on her current trajectory, there would be nothing left of her to give. He would have it all and not even notice. She had to hang up before she second guessed herself yet again.

"Bye Sheldon." _Don't go_ her brain wanted to plead with her while at the same time she fought to move her finger over the trackpad. One little click to end the call. It should not be this hard.

Once last look at Sheldon's indifferent face gave her the strength she needed to end the call once and for all.

She did not want to admit to the tears that she finally allowed to fall down her face once she did.

What had she just done? She missed him already. A part of her wondered if he even cared about her at all. He didn't even try to fight for her. To argue with her. He simply . . . let her go. Just like that.

 _That was ridiculous_ , she scolded herself. He was a real man who suddenly wasn't going to behave like the heroes in her romance novels.

He loved her. She knew that. He told her he loved her freely, and she loved him too. Love made everything between them difficult, every negotiation complex, and she really did not want to give up on him. But what other choice did she have? Allow herself to remain open to the way he callously hurt her and could not even understand why she would be upset when he treated her as less important to him than his stupid comic books and toys. He was a grown man and he did not act like it. She wanted him to desire her, to feel his desire and want and affection and reassure her that they were a pair. A team. That they would work together. That she came first in his life, not second or third. After five years together, she deserved to be in the forefront of his affections as he was in hers.

She did not know what she was going to do. She really did not. She needed more than he could give her and she loved him too much to move on. Her position was an impossible one and yet she still had a choice to make. The problem was she did not want to make a decision without talking to Penny first. Her bestie was still unavailable and she did not know what to do.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: I can't thank everyone enough for all the feedback.

Some dialogue taken directly from 9x01.

* * *

It was easy to come up with ways to distract herself. It was hard to force herself to actually do them. She could begin running the statistical analysis on her most recent experiment. She had a couple of papers waiting her peer review for _Neuron_. She could go into her lab and loose herself in work. More simply she could do her laundry that was piling up or cook. The problem was none of those activities were stimulating enough to really distract herself. She needed to think about what to do about Sheldon.

She did not want to break up with him. She felt she had no other choice. She was not sure what to do and she needed more time, as if given long enough the answer would present itself. Time apart would make her course apparent. She only wished it were that simple. She finally settled on reading _Jane Eyre_ , but only a couple of chapters into the novel she felt her thoughts drift once more back to Sheldon. She wanted to be okay with the trajectory their relationship appeared to be taking. She wished she could put off her desire to start a family right away. But the truth was she couldn't and she did not know how much more of herself she could sacrifice to his happiness.

She was surprised when Penny called her, and was at first happy to hear her bestie's voice. When Penny asked her how she was doing, she admitted that she wasn't okay. She wanted Penny to come over and talk to her. Penny could make everything better. Except she couldn't because she and Leonard eloped to Vegas. Her chance to be Maid of Honor was over and she was upset that her bestie would run away to get married without her. She tried to tell herself it wasn't selfishness at her own hurt over the break she and Sheldon were taking. Maybe she could have succeeded if she did not feel hurt inside. She did not know what to be more upset about: Sheldon or Penny. Even her bestie was no consolation anymore.

Surprisingly, her phone rang again a few minutes later.

"Hello."

"Hi, Amy. It's Bernadette." Her other female friend's voice was somehow more soothing than Penny's. Bernadette did not elope without her. That must be the reason.

"Hi, Bernadette. What can I do for you?"

"Howard and I are watching the wedding and were wondering if you'd like to come over?"

Going to the viewing party could be disastrous and yet she wanted to go. Perhaps it was the distraction she needed.

"Alright. I'll be right over." She and Bernadette talked for a few more minutes and then they hung up. Maybe going over there was a good idea even though it did not feel like it. Bernadette was her only close friend who was married. Perhaps the shorter blond could shed light on relationships that Penny couldn't. It was worth a try at least.

She was startled to find Sheldon waiting for her outside her door. Briefly she wondered how long he stood there for without making his presence known and eventually decided it was best not to dwell on it.

The more pressing concern was that Sheldon thought he could just show up at her apartment when she told him she needed time to think. Seeing him wasn't helping. She needed to remain firm. She could not crumble in on herself and give in to him. If she did he would continue on in the same manner he had before. She wanted him to go away of his own will, but when she told him she did not want to talk, he seemed dejected. It hurt her to see him hurting. He really needed to go away.

When he asked, "You seem to be heading somewhere. May I walk with you?" his puppy dog expression appealed greatly to her love for him and she felt herself agreeing even as she knew she should not. Her brain appeared at war with her instincts and as a rational human being she was not used to her emotions guiding her decisions. Except around Sheldon. Rationality slipped away from her when he was involved. She needed space from him. Being this close to him was problematic. That way lay danger.

"I'm glad we're going out again."

Did he seriously just say that? Her anger overcame her affection. She backed away from him as if burned. "We're not back together." He needed to understand that he hurt her and he could not simply expect her to act like she usually did and give into him. Theirs was a relationship. That meant both parties had to be happy, not just him. Why could he not understand having a family was nonnegotiable for her? Here he was completely ignoring what was wrong between them.

Then his jealousy made itself know. Jealousy heightened his Texas accent and in other circumstances, it would make her incredibly turned on and happy that Sheldon was interested in her. In this case, it made her mad.

"Why? Is there someone else? You just couldn't wait with that first notch on your bed post could ya?"

A break. Time to step back and reevaluate their situation. He could not honestly think she would find someone else that quickly when she still was not sure how she felt about him and what was going to happen to their relationship. He was absolutely unbelievable. Now was not the time to argue with him. Leonard and Penny were getting married and she wanted to watch the wedding. She did not have time to continue her futile argument with Sheldon.

And yet his words illustrated more that was wrong with their relationship. He seemed to think he had an exclusivity over her and could demand information about who she saw and where she went. Those choices were hers and hers alone. He had to accept that. If he could not, all the more reason she had to break up with him. Given their rocky beginning, it was easy at first to feel proud of his jealousy and like the way he tried to keep her out of 'distasteful' situations. It was endearing. It was one of the ways he showed he cared about her. But maybe it wasn't that cute all along. It was controlling and she definitely did not like it anymore. However, she did not owe him an explanation. Her actions were her own and she did not have to account for them to anyone, least of all him.

She told him about going to see their friends' wedding. Sheldon must not have been invited. She was grateful to Bernadette for that. If not for her own admission, Sheldon never would have known. However, what was upsetting was his fixation on her being with another guy. There was no other guy. She should not have to tell him multiple times before he believed her. Should and is. Two very different things she would have to contemplate later.

She generally did not understand why people found Sheldon annoying when she found him endearing. Now she did. She told him she was going to see her friends. He corrected her and said they were his friends, not hers, and assumed he had a right to be invited. Just because he knew them longer did not mean she was any less integral to their friend group. She was certainly closer to Bernadette than Sheldon, even if she never really conversed with Howard one on one.

If she did break up with Sheldon, she refused to give up her friends. She met them through Sheldon but five years later they were as much her friends as his. She refused to back down on the issue. Regardless of Sheldon, she would go to Howard and Bernadette's and watch the wedding. Eventually, she left Sheldon behind in the hallway, and she could hear him talking to her retreating back and tried to ignore him. It was not easy. He did not like being ignored and it was not in her nature to be rude. Her frustration with Sheldon won over.

She did not stop to think how he got to her apartment—he was not wearing his bus pants as far as she could determine and the people who normally drove him were in Vegas—she just got in her car and drove. When she got there, Stuart and Raj were already there. The group felt very unbalanced without Leonard, Penny, and Sheldon, and yet she was glad for Sheldon's absence, and became decidedly less glad at Stuart's constant barrage of questions. Sure she went on one date with him years ago to make Sheldon jealous and it worked. Sheldon interrupted her date and asked her to be his girlfriend. She thought she would never be happier.

She should not have been surprised when Sheldon appeared outside the window looking in, appearing like a loner. She did not want him to come in and have to deal with him yet again but he looked like a sad puppy and she found it hard to resist her sympathy. He did not want to be left out.

She sat on the couch and stared straight at the television. She did not want to look at Sheldon. Could not look at him. If she did, she would capitulate to his demands. She could not do that again. _Stay strong, Amy_ , she told herself. It was harder than it appeared.

And then he was talking to Raj and the others about how she broke up with him. This was the man who insisted on putting confidentiality clauses in their Relationship Agreement and there he was gossiping about their relationship.

"I didn't say we were broken up, Sheldon. I said I needed time to think."

Time was something he should be able to give her easily. After all, he was always the one slowing things down. Not her. She wanted more. He wanted less. Time should be easy for him to give, but she also knew Sheldon's brilliant mind could not let him rest when something remained unresolved. His need for closure must be at war with the ambiguity of her intentions; taking a step back; broken up yet not broken up; a state of limbo she knew would be difficult for him to handle.

His reaction should not have been unexpected. He tried to form sides. Foolish. The only two sides that mattered were his and hers. They would not even have a problem if he acknowledged from time to time that her side existed as well.

The wedding started and she was glad for the reprieve as everyone briefly stopped talking.

Then Sheldon's need for closure took over. "Well, Amy, I don't understand. Are we broken up or not. It's like you can't make up your mind."

It was not that hard to understand. She couldn't make up her mind.

"It's because you're not giving me any space to think."

She knew his response was automatic, but that did not diminish the hurt she felt at what he said next.

"Well you should think fast. Because men can sire offspring their entire lives but those eggs you're totting around have a sell-by date."

She could not believe he said that. It was the heart of their problem. She wanted more. He wanted less. She needed children and he despised the idea. There was no reconciliation. Insensitivity she could forgive. He really did mean well even if he did not understand why he upset others. But to throw her fears and insecurities in her face like that?

She wanted to cry right then and there, and she no longer even cared if her friends would witness her breakdown. She was furious. He could not have hurt her more had he tried.

It truly was over. Done with. She could not handle this pain anymore. It was a vicious cycle. Sheldon did something to hurt her. He tried to make it better. He first blamed his problems on her, and when that failed he caved just enough to get her to forgive him before going back to his old ways. He would hurt her again. This devastation was worse than anything else he'd ever said to her, but really, she was the one stupid enough to keep coming back time and again until it finally reached this point of no return.

"You're despicable, Sheldon," she said. The hurt was apparent and the corners of her eyes were blurry. It would not be much longer before the tears came. She did not even try to hold back the flood. Regardless of their present company the waterworks would be coming. "And you know what? You've made this really easy. You're immature. You're selfish. You just insulted me to my face. I want children and you refuse to even think about it. You keep hurting me and think I will just forgive you? I can't do this anymore. You hurt me too much and I can't take it anymore. I don't need anymore time to think. We're broken up."

She needed to leave the living room. Everyone was looking at her and she was crying. She wanted to be alone with her pain. The instinct pulled her away and into the kitchen, the nearest room where she could be alone.

It was over. She really did it. She broke up with Sheldon and she should be happy she finally went through with it and all she could feel was anger and disappointment and longing all wrapped into one confusing bundle.

She heard footsteps behind her and dared not look at who entered the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, Amy." Sheldon said. He was the very last person in the world she wanted to speak with and yet he was the one who inflicted his presence on her.

"Go away, Sheldon." She was surprised her words were intelligible through her crying. She grabbed a paper towel and dried her tears with the rough material. More would come soon but for now she turned to look at him.

He looked upset. Really upset. She would bet everything she owned that he was not as distraught as her.

He opened his mouth several times to say something and no words came out. He wasn't leaving. He wasn't talking. She wanted him gone.

Then he was moving closer and his hands were on the sides of her face. She felt the searing heat of his palms just before he kissed her and she couldn't push him away. His lips were warm on hers and sent tingles through her body. Heat flared as his hands drifted down her body and settled overtop of her hips and pulled her closer to him. She was sure her tears wetted his face and his OCD cleanliness would demand he go clean them up right away but he was not leaving. He was there, kissing her.

She felt the heat from his hands flare as he moved them upwards again, and lost in the kiss she did not notice at first as he undid the buttons of her cardigan and pushed it off her shoulders. Next came the buttons of her shirt and then his hands were touching the bare expanse of her stomach.

She must be dreaming because there was no way her ex-boyfriend, who refused to even kiss her when not provoked or contractually obligated, was willingly touching the bare skin of her stomach. Was taking off her clothes. It was too much to handle. She hated him and the way he hurt her. She was furious. Her body refused to listen. She felt the slickness settle between her legs as he innocently caressed her skin, working his fingers higher and higher in soothing circles until they traced just underneath her bra. All the while she felt consumed by his kiss. The ground could open her up beneath her and swallow her alive and as long as Sheldon kept kissing her the way he was she would not even notice or care. Nothing mattered except his skin on hers and his scent and taste. He was her aphrodisiac and she could not get enough.

His fingers slipped behind her back and deftly unhooked her bra. That subtle motion briefly gave her the clarity she needed. She pushed him back and rapidly retreated until she was pressed against the countertop, as far away from him as possible. Her fingers fumbled to redo the buttons of her blouse. In her hurry to cover herself again she missed a button but could not care less about the asymmetry that created, instead covering up her mistake with her cardigan.

She just broke up with him. She could not kiss him more passionately than they ever kissed before.

"What the hell were you doing?"

Sheldon hated cursing and he flinched back at her language. She did not care in the least. Her anger was back full force. He could not simply kiss her and make everything better. Not this time. Their problems ran deeper than that.

"We're making a baby, Amy. Isn't that what you want?" He looked both hurt by her refusal and perplexed by her pushing him away when she normally wanted as much of him as she could get.

"And you think now is a good time? We're in Bernadette's kitchen!"

How could he? She broke up with him and he thought now was a good time to engage in coitus for the first time. They were in their friend's kitchen and undoubtedly everyone was listening to them at the door.

"You don't even want children. You made that abundantly clear to me," she hissed.

"I changed my mind," Sheldon said. "I want you to have my baby so pull your skirt down, little lady. Let's get crack'n. Those eggs of yours won't last forever."

She wanted to believe him. She hated him for his incredibly sexist comments, his unintended crassness, and his insensitivity. The emotional part of her that loved him really wanted to believe him to be genuine and audience be damned Sheldon wanted her and she wanted him. She wanted him to take her on Bernadette's kitchen table if he was willing to have her.

Yet this was not what she wanted. She harbored many romantic fantasies of what her first time ever, with Sheldon, would be like. Angry passion was not it. She wanted sweet and romantic. She wanted to be desired for her, not because he was afraid of loosing her, a last ditch effort to keep her from walking away. She did not want some torrid rushed first time that was spurred on by Sheldon trying to impregnate her just to meet her demands and make it so she would not leave him. That's what his recent behavior was about after all. He thought if he showed up and was insistent she would forgive him. He would reluctantly give in part by part until it was finally enough to win her back. That's how his mind worked. Give as little as possible until the alternative became too unbearable; coitus with her was the lesser of the two evils.

"I don't believe you."

"Please, Amy?" This time he whimpered. A kicked puppy could not have looked sadder. How she wanted to give in.

"Then here's a question for you, Sheldon. In a world where we marry, have children, and you never get your Noble Prize, what happens to us?"

Sheldon immediately answered a question that was part of his favorite game. "I will win the Nobel Prize."

"Wrong."

"Amy, that is an unfair question."

"Wrong again Sheldon. You know what the right answer is? You resent me. You blame me for destroying your dreams and forcing children on you all because you're too focused on yourself and you don't care what I need. I can't live without children and you say you're okay with it now because you're afraid of breaking up. But one day we'll be old and our children will be grown up and you still won't have a Nobel Prize because you were too focused on being human to change physics, and then you'll wake up one morning and see me and blame me for ruining your life. I can't do that to you, Sheldon. I love you and I won't be the reason you go through life unhappy. I cannot stand back and let you sacrifice your dreams for me. I could not live with myself if you resented me because I forced you into something you did not want. But I also can't give you what you want. There is only one solution that doesn't end in us hating each other. We're broken up."

Sheldon looked like he was about to flee. It was his natural reaction to arguments, ingrained into him from childhood by his parents always at each others throats. It pained her to be the cause of that instinctual terror and yet she could not help it. She needed to be honest with him. She needed to get her point across. They were over. Done with. There was no going back. Not for her.

She needed to break up with him because she loved him too much to ever hurt him. He might hurt now but he would hurt more later when he ended up living a life he resented with a woman who forced him to behave against his instincts. If she backed down now everything between them would be a lie tentatively balanced and ready to crumble at the slightest sign of trouble.

"I could never resent you, Amy," Sheldon tried to appease her. Now he was crying too. She wanted to wipe away his tears and kiss him and apologize. She wanted to kiss him and make love to him and feel his arms around her, protecting her, guiding her, as he showed her that he really did love her.

Even more she needed her space from him. Time to think more without being lost in the maze of sensations she associated with him. He had the unique ability to confuse and irritate and arouse her all at the same time. This had to stop. It was unhealthy. It was painful.

She knew very well passion would one day fade and it would leave behind two empty shells if they continued on their current trajectory.

"Yes you would," she protested. "You'd end up hating me. And . . . and I'm not sure I wouldn't feel the same." There. Double negative and all she said it. Everything she worried about was out in the open and aloud it sounded even worse than it did in her head. "I . . . goodbye, Sheldon."

He looked like he wanted to protest but something about her heated argument must have convinced him otherwise. He raised his arm as if to wave it at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to brush a tear off of her cheek. He did nothing of the sort. He dropped his arm back down and stepped away from her. They were no longer in arms reach and she felt his absence acutely. She wanted him gone. She was on the verge of meltdown and he was the last person she wanted to see her in that state.

"Goodbye, Amy Farrah Fowler." There was a certain finality to his tone and that hurt yet again. How strange. She was in enough pain she should be immune to more by now and yet it seemed to come and come and come without stopping.

It took him a moment and she recognized he was practicing kolinahr. His face calmed and fell into a neutral expression. He appeared as indifferent as he did to the price of peas. Nix that. He cared more about the price of peas then he did about her.

He walked away. She hated watching him go. The scent of his talc remained in the air and it was as if a ghost version of him remained with her. She could not stay in the kitchen any longer. She was crying too heavily to drive.

Once Sheldon left, Bernadette came into the kitchen and guided her to sit down at the table. Her friend could place however many boxes of tissues in front of her and it would not make anything better. Nothing could make her better.

"What happened in here?" the petit blond asked.

What did happen? Amy had no way to describe what passed between her and Sheldon. She took a tissue and wiped the moisture away from her eyes but the moment she dried her tears new ones replaced them.

"Sheldon . . . he . . . he tried to . . ." Amy trailed off. She couldn't say it. There were no words to describe Sheldon's behavior other than extremely uncharacteristic.

"What did Sheldon do?" Bernadette asked. The way her hand rubbed Amy's back did not sooth her at all. It only made her feel the loss of Sheldon's touch more keenly.

"He . . . he wanted . . ." Her voice deserted her even as she wanted to speak. Needed to speak.

"Everything alright in here?" Howard asked, popping his head into the kitchen, clearly curious about what was going on.

"Out!" Bernadette snapped before Amy had time to. Howard retreated at the vicious tone his wife assumed. Amy was grateful for Bernadette's interference. It was hard enough trying to talk to Bernadette as much as she wanted to let it out. She did not want to talk in front of Howard. Couldn't. He'd joke and make light and that would hurt more.

"Thanks," Amy whispered.

"What did Sheldon want, Amy?" Bernadette asked. No matter how much she cared about her friend, Amy also knew that a part of her concern was motivated by a selfish desire to be a part of the gossip. To know what happened. That inexplicable desire to interfere in her friend's personal life.

"He wanted . . ." No. She simply couldn't say it. The words she wanted to express and her voice were not in sync anymore.

"To get back together? To apologize? I need a bit of help—"

"—Sex," Amy interrupted, and although it was softly uttered, Bernadette's silence confirmed she heard Amy.

"Are you sure? You do know this is Sheldon you're talking about," Bernadette said, the information not settling right with her.

"I'm sure," Amy confirmed. Oh how she wished she was joking. It would make it easier if it was all false, as if possessed by a dream like quality that would make it not real. Not painful.

"Are you certain?" Bernadette asked again.

It wasn't just pain Amy felt but humiliation as well. It was no secret that Sheldon's apparent lack of sex drive was the source of frequent amusement for her friends. They thought her relationship was a joke, because Sheldon admired her mind more than her body, if he even noticed her body at all. And, on the rare times they did become physical, it was a few chaste kisses, or coerced cuddling, here and there. Sheldon rarely made the overtures himself, and when she attempted to go further, she felt herself rebuffed.

Undesirable. Unattractive. Unenticing.

She was very well aware of her lack of physical attractiveness. And she could not even fault Bernadette for being skeptical.

"You may have misinterpreted . . ." Bernadette suggested while Amy was lost in her own thoughts.

"I didn't misinterpret anything," Amy snapped. Maybe she was a virgin unlike her friend, but she was not that naive. "He kissed me . . . and he took off my shirt . . . and he . . . he told me to . . ."

Normally frank, her inability to be articulate frustrated her. Something was wrong with her brain. She needed to get it scanned, to figure out what was wrong and get it fixed before her intelligence lowered to match that of her friends. She would loose her uniqueness.

She had nothing else left but her intellect and that appeared to be failing her.

"What did Sheldon say?" Bernadette asked gently, her voice full of compassion.

Soft. Unusual for her but enticing to Amy. She wanted to confess. To tell what happened and let Bernadette comfort her. She craved the understanding her friend offered her.

"He said . . . he told me to take of my skirt so . . ."

Were their positions reversed, Amy would feel like she was slowly torturing her victim. As it was, she wanted to say more but through her tears and the way her body refused to cooperate with her brain, it was hard to get everything out.

"Amy," Bernadette prompted.

"He said he wanted me to have his baby." Amy sobbed, partially in pain at the recollection and partially in relief at finally saying it aloud. Of acknowledging it was real and not some figment of her imagination.

"Isn't that what you want?" Bernadette questioned.

Maybe she was a smart microbiologist but Amy thought she was being deliberately obtuse. Rather insensitive of her really, given Amy's current pain.

"Not like this," Amy said, and to her surprise, as she dried her eyes they were not immediately flooded by more tears. She discarded the wet tissue into the ever growing pile on the table. "I can't force him. I won't."

Moral high ground be damned but it was hard to have her dream offered to her willingly and then to cast it aside as if she did not care. She cared. More than she could voice. More than she could express to anyone.

Because in his own way, Sheldon apologized to her. He might not use the more traditional 'I'm sorry' but he showed he cared about her. His affection. His love. To offer to make a sacrifice for her, a symbol of devotion. The type of devotion he previously reserved for _Star Trek_ and comic books. He was willing to let her in. To make her feel important. To place her on that pedestal.

"But if he offered, you wouldn't be forcing him," Bernadette reasoned.

Amy might not be putting a gun to his head, and Sheldon could not reasonably claim coercion in a court of law, but she would still be coercing him by giving him an ultimatum and knowing how much he disliked change.

Because it wasn't a dislike. It was pathological. She tried to break him of his need for closure but she knew her experiment failed. She knew that he would finish everything the moment she left 4A. He could put it off. Pretend like he was cured. But she was a scientist and observant. She saw his twitches each time she bested him. She noticed the twitch as he practically shoved her out the door.

He did not want to change and without the self-impetus, he never would. She couldn't force him to change. It would be fake, precariously stacked and ready to tumble into the abyss.

And Sheldon, much as it might hurt her to admit it, wasn't there. He didn't want to change. He would pretend, and he might even make an honest effort of it to please her and keep her in his life, but it wouldn't last. It couldn't. Eventually, it would crumble and the fallout would be devastating.

In the long run, she was protecting her fragile heart from further pain. It might not feel like it now, but she knew it could only ever get harder.

And yet the image Bernadette painted for her was tempting. A chance to have what she wanted without having to force Sheldon to change. To win. To be absolved of her wrongs and to claim what she wanted to be hers regardless of whether she deserved it or not.

"I said no," Amy said, and Sheldon, for all his faults, respected her and her wishes. He had not a mean bone in his body and though he might attempt persuasion, he would not hurt her. Not intentionally in any case.

He offered to have sex with her. To give her children. And she said no. The magnitude of it all fell heavily upon her and her eyes teared up again. She was a fool wasn't she? Sadistic and cruel.

"Do you think I made a mistake?" Amy asked, not sure what she wanted Bernadette to say in return. Not sure whether she wanted Bernadette to respond to her at all. Whichever way she answered, it could only ever hurt. That's what relationships brought, why she did not have them for so long in her life. Pain and hurt and sorrow. Regret. Confusion.

It barely felt worth the good moments.

"Maybe," Bernadette acknowledged. The ambiguity should have driven Amy crazy but it didn't. The annoyance was a mere twitch compared to the searing pain in her chest. "But for what it's worth, I think you did the right thing."

Right and wrong be damned. If it was right then why did it hurt her so damned much?

"I'm not sure," Amy said aloud, though in her heart, she knew that was false. There was no uncertainty. Not really. She knew with absolute clarity that she made the right choice. It was a choice that hurt her and Sheldon both but in the long run, it was the right choice for them both. Pain now so they could both be happy later on.

Stuart and Howard, no longer kept out in fear of Bernadette, joined them. Then Stuart tried to hit on her and it just made everything worse. She yelled at him and promptly left to drive home. The mere suggestion of being with someone else when all she wanted was Sheldon stung like a physical blow. She couldn't be around such insensitivity. She needed to be alone. She needed . . .

She needed Sheldon and he was now beyond her reach.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogue comes from 9x02.

* * *

She cried herself to sleep that night. Or more correctly, she laid in her bed while she cried heavily and wished she could fall into sleep's sweet oblivion and forget her distress for even a few hours. What she would not give to feel human again!

Somehow, she did not know, she managed to fall asleep on top of her tear soaked pillow. She woke after only a short rest to the sound of her phone buzzing on her bedside table. Crying the night before did not help her at all. Perhaps it was Bernadette or Penny calling to check up on her. This was her first break up and as smart as she was she was uncertain how to handle the sea of emotions. Both her female friends knew what it was like to break up and she could really use their advice.

She put on her glasses and checked her phone. It was not Penny or Bernadette.

 _Good morning, Amy._

The short text with perfect grammar was from Sheldon. Her finger hovered over the delete button but she could not bring herself to press it. Instead, she shut her phone screen off and made her way to the kitchen. She was starving but none of her food appeared appetizing. She did not want her fruits and vegetables and other nutritious foods. She wanted something comforting.

She opened up her freezer. If she could not eat with Penny and Bernadette she would settle for her two next best friends: Ben and Jerry.

She put on Little House on the Prairie and cuddled up with her carton of ice cream but she still felt too upset to loose herself in her favorite show. She was glad it was the weekend. Otherwise she would have to call in sick to work because she could not run the risk of running into Sheldon. Short of some miracle she still suspected she would be calling in sick to work on Monday anyways. She knew what she needed and it was her bestie. She did not want to interrupt Penny on her first day as a married woman but she was not sure she could handle her overwhelming emotions on her own and Bernadette was just not the support she wanted.

Penny answered on the third ring. "Hi, Amy. I heard you broke up with Sheldon last night."

"I did," Amy answered and a little bit at a time Penny coaxed the entire story out of her, starting with her desire for children, Sheldon's adamant refusal, the numerous times he pushed her away and belittled her when she tried to bring up the subject again, his inability to leave her alone, and finally the insensitive comment that pushed her over the edge.

Penny expressed her sympathy the entire time and once she was done explaining the events that led up to the breakup she was surrounded by a sea of wet tissues. She would pick them up later. She could not bring herself to care about the mess at the moment.

"Did anything else happen?" Penny asked.

That girl was good. It was one of the reasons she liked her bestie so much. Penny chased after gossip like a bloodhound and could intuit when there were still more juicy details to be had.

"I ran into the kitchen and he followed me. Then he kissed me and I was just frozen and I could not say no or push him away."

"Amy, you do know that's not how a breakup works, right," Penny tried to joke.

Amy did not find it the least bit humorous. "He...he took off my shirt and almost made it to second base before I pushed him away. And then he said he wanted to have a baby and told me to pull my skirt down and I was infuriated that he would try to manipulate me but I really wanted to and...what's wrong with me, Penny?"

Her voice cracked at the end. Something had to be wrong with her for Sheldon to think he could treat her like that. Was there something about her that inspired his callousness?

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I know you must be confused right now. But from what you just told me I think you made the right decision breaking up with him."

"You do?" Amy thought for sure Penny would be disappointed with her. Penny and Bernadette were the biggest fans of 'Shamy'. She did not understand the point of a couple name but Penny loved using it.

"Of course, sweetie. You are both inexperienced and he should not have treated you like that. He can be a nutjob sometimes."

"I know." Amy sighed. Talking to Penny helped. She did not know why the validation made her feel better but it did.

There was one more thing she needed to say, however, before she could allow herself to be alone with her thoughts. "I almost did it too. I almost let him. I wanted to. Is that wrong of me?"

"Not at all. You're broken up but you still love him. It will take time to get over him but you're a strong girl." Amy may have noticed the parallels this conversation held to her one with Bernadette the evening before yet everything sounded more comforting coming from Penny. "I know you can move on."

"That's the problem. I don't want to move on. I just want to be his girlfriend again but I can't go back. I'm hurting and angry and he won't leave me alone. He's been texting me all day and each time he does it reminds me of our breakup and kiss all over again and it makes everything worse all over again."

"Amy...I have to ask...have you responded to him?"

"No."

"Good. It's probably best that you don't."

"It's hard. I'm not sure I can do this."

By the time she hung up with Penny over an hour later she felt both better and worse. Now firm in her resolve, she did not even read the next three texts Sheldon sent her. The uncertainty of not knowing what they said near about drove her insane but she also needed to put more distance between him.

After her conversation with Penny, she felt well enough put together to drag herself to the grocery store and restock her fridge with unhealthy foods. Let it never be said that Amy did not resort to comfort foods in time of a breakup, though she did avoid buying any of the South's most popular comfort foods. They reminded her too much of Sheldon and his accent.

By that evening she even managed to cook herself a quick dinner. It was a simple pasta but it was a step up from her ice cream breakfast and nonexistent lunch. Better she go about her life and prove that Sheldon did not dictate her every move. She would act normal and function as she always did. She refused to behave otherwise or it would be tantamount to admitting Sheldon still influenced her life. He didn't.

She broke her streak of not reading Sheldon's messages when a new one came.

 _Are you alright? Please answer me._

She could not tell for sure but she suspected Sheldon was begging. _Good_ a sadistic part of her brain rejoiced triumphantly _make him uncomfortable. Make him worried. He deserves to hurt like you do._

Despite her resolve not to, she checked her phone screen for the next message as well, but that time it was her mother.

 _Your father and I have something to tell you. Can you come by for dinner tomorrow?_

 _No._ She texted back. She was not in the mood to tell her mother about her breakup. She did not think she could stomach her mother's disappointment in her for failing to keep the attention of her boyfriend, even if she was the one who broke up with him she just knew her mother would not believe her. Or even worse, her mother would think Sheldon was yet another made-up boyfriend she fabricated to keep her mother off her case about dating. Both the scenarios were unpleasant and it was easier to remain aloof.

 _Monday then._

 _Can't. Busy week ahead. Sry._

She felt cold and abrupt but she really could not talk to her mother.

When her phone began ringing, she answered it without looking at the screen, expecting it to be her mother calling to account for her most recent message.

She really should have double checked who was calling before answering.

"I can't talk right now, mother."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'll call back later."

She froze. That voice. That accent. Sheldon. Why could he not act like a normal person and leave her alone after a breakup or why could he not put his Southern manners to good use for once and respect her need for distance?

"What do you want Sheldon?" She should not engage him but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Oh." Was that just her of did he sound surprised she was talking to him. She sensed him floundering for something to say in the prolonged silence. "I was calling to confirm our date on Thursday. You can pick me up at 7:00."

"I don't think you understand what being broken up means, Sheldon. I'm not going on a date with you." _Be firm. He just wants to manipulate you into forgiving him. Don't give in. You deserve better_. It was hard to follow through on what she knew to be true.

"Next Thursday is the second Thursday of the month. Per the relationship agreement the second Thursday of the month is date night. You are obligated to go on a date with me."

"I broke up with you, Sheldon. I'm not obligated to do anything with you anymore."

"Negative," Sheldon protested, "We are not broken up. You failed to send me a notarized copy of the relationship termination clause both by email and post. The relationship shall not be terminated until two business days after receipt by post of the relationship termination agreement. Ergo, you are still my girlfriend and you must pick me up for date night on Thursday."

Damn it but he was right. In her distress she had not even thought to sign the relationship termination clause of her copy of the agreement. On Monday she would take it to the bank to get it notarized and fulfill the obligatory email and post requirement, and though there was no possible way for the break up to go into effect until after date night, she still would not show up. Regardless of legality, they were broken up.

"Then you will have to sue me."

"Maybe I will." He was childish and hurtful. She could not believe he responded that way to her snark but then again, maybe she should not be surprised after all.

"Goodbye Sheldon." She hung up on him without waiting for him to respond in kind. She could not do it any more. She needed to cut off all contact with him and get him out of her life.

With that thought in mind, she grabbed an empty box and began rummaging through her apartment. First to be tossed into the box was Sheldon's old Flash t-shirt that he did not even knew she had, his Employee Information Sheet where he named her his emergency contact, even though that was more of a symbolic gesture than anything else. She put into the box a collection of science fiction DVDs he bought her in his attempt to interest her in Star Trek, Star Wars, Firefly, and others. She put in her Nurse Chapel uniform, even though she bought it she bought it for him and she did not want it anymore. It was another painful reminder of him. She rummaged through her game shelf. First to go into the box were the laminated counterfactual cards and his game, Research Lab.

She tore her apartment apart and it seemed a surprising amount of things either belonged to Sheldon or were given to her by Sheldon. She would get rid of them all. She needed a clean break and she could not get while she hung onto reminders of him.

The final object was the hardest of all. It was the tiara he got her when she was upset with him. She remembered being infuriated that he thought he could by her a silly piece of jewelry and she would forgive him, but he got her a tiara and she felt like the princess she always wanted to be. It was the first time she kissed him. At least it was the first time she remembered kissing him. She was too drunk during their first kiss to remember it afterwards, and though the second kiss was a brief peck, it meant a lot to her that he would buy her a real tiara. It illustrated how well he understood her.

Apparently she read more into the gesture that she should have. Recent events proved he understood very little about her.

It was not hers to keep anymore. She could not hold onto it. Not if she wanted to get over him. It was easily her most treasured possession but she could not justify keeping it any more than the other objects, whether she wanted them or not. She slipped it back into its pouch, settled it on top of the box, and set it by the door to remember to take back to him later.

Tired as she was from her sleepless night before, she found oblivion much quicker that night. When she woke up the next morning, she felt more refreshed and ready to go about her life again. It would be a long time until she felt happy again but she would get there eventually. Sheldon would not keep ruining her life.

Deciding it was time she focus on her own health, she made her way to the gym. She had a membership there ever since she moved to Glendale. As a neurobiologist she knew the value of exercise even if she did not particularly enjoy exercising herself. However, if she was going to make changes in her life she might as well go all the way. Thirty minutes a day of exercise was healthy and she neglected it for far too long.

She set the treadmill to a slow jog. Any faster and she would not make it through her planned thirty minutes. The pounding of her feet and physical exertion had a relaxing effect. For the first time in a week she did not feel upset or on edge. She still had a lot to sort through but the tiredness that came with jogging and the endorphins released during exercise made her problems seem more distant and less painful. She had a rational head on her shoulders again.

She went home to shower, unwilling to risk the bacteria in the gym showers. She was barely finished cleaning herself up when she heard the unmistakable sound of a Skype call from her computer.

Sitting down, she accepted it. "I don't think you understand what being broken up means," she told Sheldon. He simply could not leave her alone. He did not seem to care that his constant need to insinuate himself into every aspect of her life traumatized her. He did not understand that with his every attempt to be close to her when they talked he was only driving her further away.

She wanted to punch her computer screen when he talked about the 'baby' they would never have. He meant their Youtube web show, Fun with Flags, and she could not believe he could possibly be that insensitive. Yet he did not notice the words he used would be hurtful. That was his problem, after all. He did not pick up on what others felt and his clinical detachment meant that he failed to understand why what he said would hurt someone.

When they dated, she texted, called, and Skyped him constantly as a cheap, unfulfilling replacement for his physical presence. He, however, was content to only spend time alone on their once monthly date night. Any other time she saw him in person it was for a special occasion or because they were eating dinner with all their friends. Alone time with her boyfriend was not an unreasonable desire, and as a woman in a relationship with a man for just over five years, neither was it unreasonable to avoid discussing marriage and children. It was not wrong of her to want those things for herself, nor was it wrong of Sheldon to avoid them. They were two people whose personalities were suited for each other better than anyone else ever could, and yet personally they were too different to reconcile. It was a cruel twist of fate he was her perfect match intellectually but not emotionally.

She was not used to Sheldon reaching out to her as frequently as he now did in a desperate attempt to worm his way back into her life. She was flattered at the same time she was furious. She needed to ignore him. Not engage. Each time she resolved to hang up on him without answering she ended up talking to him instead. He was her addiction and he drove her insane in his absence.

In the two days since she broke up with him she'd seen and talked more to him than in their last two months together. That was unacceptable. How could she ever work through her feelings about how much she loved him and their kiss if he did not give her the space? He could not know how much he affected her and she hated that control he had and used without even knowing. Yet with each time he contacted her the pent up frustration built upon itself. She could only hold back for so long.

Only an hour after the Skype call, he inflicted his presence on her again, this time showing up in person with the pretense of returning her stuff.

He insisted she look through the box and she already knew something was up. There was the scarf she'd left at his apartment after the night they went ice skating, and just underneath it was a red bra. She knew whose it was once she saw it. Sultry red and in Sheldon's possession; it could only be Penny's, likely stolen from the washing machine.

She asked whose it was, a small experiment to see how far he would go to make her jealous. That had to be his intention with the bra. He was good. If he wanted to make her jealous, he near succeeded until the rational part of her brain figured out his ploy. He never was good at lying, even worse at lying to her.

She handed the bra back to him and tossed the remainder of the box onto her sofa without looking at the rest of the contents. No doubt he meticulously gathered everything that belonged to her and she she really did not care about which of her nick knacks he choose to return, though she did hope the box contained her worn and annotated copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ but she would not be devastated if it did not.

Picking up her own box conveniently by the door, she handed it to him. He at least spared her the need to make a trip to his apartment to return his belongings.

"These are yours," she told him and pushed the box into his hands.

Sheldon briefly scanned the comments. He picked up the DVDs and games. "I have no need for two copies of these. Keep them." He tried to give them back but she placed them into the box.

"They're yours. Take them."

He then tried to pawn off the t-shirt, the counterfactual cards, and Research Lab. She rejected them all for the same reason as before. The one item she wanted him to offer her again was the only one he did not: Her tiara.

It was not hers anymore. Sheldon bought it for her and now they were broken up she had to give it back. She was not destined to be a princess who got her happily ever after. When there was nothing more to be said, she slammed the door in his face, leaving him with the box of his things and Penny's bra. She tried not to feel a smug satisfaction about those particular events. She evaded yet another one of Sheldon's attempts to woo her and she resisted him. She was proud of herself for her fortitude. She suspected his ploys were far from over, but she could outmaneuver him again and again and again if necessary until he gave up.

At least she had girls night to look forward to. Penny was back and would have wine and Bernadette said she would make brownies. With the recent turmoil in two of their three relationships, it was long past time for them to sit down and talk.

Thankfully she did not run into Sheldon on her way to Penny's apartment. Her bestie hijacked the conversation as she continuously repeated her disbelief that Leonard kissed a girl. Of all her boyfriends who cheated on her, Leonard was the only one who surprised her by it.

She came over with the intention of talking through her confusion with Penny and Bernadette, but found that discussing Penny's problems worked just as well at distracting her. Perhaps it was selfish of her but if her gorgeous, perfect, vivacious best friend had guy troubles, she could at least share something in common with her. Of course, Penny was married and now she worried that she would never be married, her intentions to find a new boyfriend notwithstanding.

Amy knew Bernadette was lying through her teeth about something. She seemed far too defensive and repetitive about her lack of knowledge of the entire fiasco. Amy suspected Bernadette knew about the kiss long before Penny, but she did not want to turn Penny on Bernadette either. It would not be good for Penny to feel betrayed by some else close to her in such a short time after the first. Instead, she and Bernadette talked Penny through her emotions, and she felt proud she was now a woman who understood how hard it was to argue with a loved one. Who understood disappointed hopes and unfulfilled expectations.

Penny seemed calmer, and eventually resolved she would talk to Leonard again. He did choose her in the end. He married her even after she rejected his many proposals. She was grateful he kept coming back. For years she did not recognize how much she loved him, but in the end he did not give up on her. They were married and that meant forever. She would have to work things out with him eventually.

Once Penny settled down, the conversation ultimately turned to her and her breakup. She wanted to avoid speaking about it but instead she broke down and told them about Sheldon's unending attempts to contact her and about his attempt to use Penny's bra to make her jealous.

"That's not what you actually want to talk about," Bernadette said sagely and took another sip from her wine.

Amy set hers down on the coffee table. There was no use avoiding it.

"No," she agreed.

"Then what's bothering you, Amy?"

Penny laid a hand on her arm in comfort and Amy could no longer have keep herself from revealing all had she wanted to.

"Am I undesirable?"

"No."

"Then why didn't he want me?"

She was being irrational. Her desirability had nothing to do with Sheldon's complete lack of desire to marry her or have children with her. He lived in his own little bubble and she threatened that stability he built for himself.

"Oh Amy." Bernadette moved over to the couch and squished herself down on Amy's other side. It felt nice being between her two friends. They took turns comforting her, and by the end of the night she was intoxicated and once again convinced Sheldon did not deserve her. She was firm again in her resolve to stay apart.

He even sent her a lengthy email that she did not respond to and the girls cheered on her effort. Things would get better.

Except they did not get better. They got worse, only this time she did not feel that mix of anger and frustration and love and affection that confused her and made it hard to stick to her resolve. No. She was furious.

She sat down to eat her dinner of leftover pasta and a salad. Her computer notified her of a new email from Sheldon and though she knew she should not engage she could not help but read the subject line 'This is going to make you mad'. Her scientific curiosity got the best of her and before she could rationalize the need to ignore the email she followed the link to the newest installment of Fun with Flags.

She needed to turn it off and yet some force greater than her own drew her to keep watching. Sheldon was clearly upset and that made her happy, but as his insults about her continued she became more and more furious. She knew she was being compared to the Czech republic and she hated Sheldon talking about her genitals on the internet.

She broke up with him. That was no reason to spout his vindictive nonsense on the internet. No other countries lining up to invade her southern borders. Screw him. She would find someone else, and she would find someone else before he did. She was not a pretty as Penny but she was intelligent and not unattractive. Any man would be lucky to have her even if Sheldon did not appreciate her. She would show him. She would go out and find a man, multiple men, to date. Maybe they would even desire her. Maybe they would voluntarily kiss her and hold her hand and show her the affection she craved.

"And then Ireland just had to succeed from the UK because Ireland wanted a baby and the UK did not, but did the UK's feelings matter? No. Because the UK kissed Ireland and agreed to give Ireland and baby but that wasn't good enough for Ireland!"

She wanted to kill him for his vitriol he spewed for all the internet to hear. How dare he broadcast their personal life over the internet and make it seem like everything was her fault when it was his. He took their Youtube show and turned it into an insult to her. She had to go.

Irrationally angry she grabbed her car keys. For the first time ever she went way above the speed limit and even pressed through a couple questionable red lights. Her anger made her careless and spurred her forwards.

The four flights of stairs seemed short and it did not take long for Sheldon to answer her impatient knock.

"How dare you go on the internet and say mean things about me and compare my genitalia to parts of Czechoslovakia!"

"Saw right through that one did ya."

Oh she really wanted to kill him. He was childish and immature and she did not know how she put up with him for as long as she did. How was she so blind to his faults?

"I don't know what you were thinking but take the video down now." People all over the world could watch him belittle and humiliate her. Oh god. Her mom could find that video. She once thought it funny and necessary to Skype her mom and have Sheldon say crude things to her about their nonexistent sex life but that was before they started dating and before she cared what people thought about her and by extension her relationship with Sheldon. Her nonexistent relationship now.

She wanted to slap and punch him and let out all the rage he caused. Instead, she did the smart thing and slammed the door behind her.

Confrontation over she felt the adrenaline start to drain away. She leaned back against the wall and struggled to catch her breath. She felt like she was about to cry. Not again. Not when he could easily walk outside and see her miserable because of him.

Muffled through the closed door, she still heard him say, "She watched it. I'm gonna get that girl back."

Selfish, arrogant, clueless, fuckwit he was he could really not see it. There was no coming back from their argument, nothing he could say or do anymore that would convince her to give him another chance. He blew it when he insulted her. She hated his arrogant presumption that she would meekly come back to him. She had options damn it and it was time he started acknowledging that fact.

"I only watched it because you emailed it to me with the subject line 'This is going to make you mad.'" It felt good to scream. Cathartic. She was falling apart and she could focus on her anger and some things seemed to stabilize.

"She was listening through the door. She wants me."

She was furious and on the verge of breaking down and crying and he was happy. The bastard. Mary Cooper would forgive her for her language.

Rather than respond and give him more satisfaction, she flew down the stairs. He would learn soon enough. She would come back with a vengeance and be better than him. She would show him she did not want him anymore. It would be a lie, for some time at least, but that would serve him right. She would bring back another man and show him off. Multiple men. She was young and her pheromones would draw in red-blooded men. Sheldon was prone to jealousy and she would make him learn her stunt with Stuart was child's play. Their relationship and her friendship with Penny turned her into a warm blooded woman with physical desires and now she knew better, she would take those desires to the next level.

She would make him pay for the way he hurt her. She would bring him to his knees until he begged her for forgiveness, she would make him excruciatingly jealous and then she would kiss the other man in front of him. It would be the perfect revenge. Sheldon was going to hurt.

Her momentum carried her to her car but no further. She sat down in the drivers seat but then the tears came, too think and heavy for her to see enough to drive. Insanity gripped her veins and drove her to act like she never had before. She wanted to make him jealous. He would be jealous.

She drove like a maniac to the bookstore. Surely there would be some numerous books on seduction and intimacy. She would figure out how to make men flock to her the way they did to Penny. Sheldon would not know what hit him the next time he saw her.

She stormed through the store, intent on finding the right section when she bumped into someone. She wanted to yell and cry at him all the once.

"Get out of my way," she raged.

"Oh. I'm very sorry miss. I must not have seen you. I mean, I did see you but you were moving so fast I did not have time to get out of your way. Dreadfully sorry."

Let it be known that British accents were the sexiest accents known to man. This man's accent was no exception.

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face the man head on.

"I'm sorry. I should have looked where I was going."

She turned to leave again when he once again stopped her. "It's none of my business, but have you been crying? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she hissed. She did not even know why she gave the stranger the satisfaction but his voice was alluring and she had a hard time ignoring it.

"You don't want to talk about it. I apologize."

The random stranger really did not deserve to be the recipient of her wrath.

"No. It's not you. I just broke up with my boyfriend. He's an ass."

"I see. Did he run away with a French pastry chef?"

She looked up at him quizzically. Now she paid more attention, she noticed he was really tall, had light colored hair, and spectacles. He had a hot teacher kind of look. She repressed a quiet 'Hoo' threatening to make itself known.

"No. He's just immature and childish and we wanted different things."

"I'm sorry. I know how it feels. My wife ran away with a French pastry chef. That's why I moved here."

"I'm sorry as well," Amy said, her sympathy for his predicament lending credence to the phrase 'misery loves company'.

"What are you looking for?" He changed the subject abruptly and she was grateful for it.

Suddenly, her plan to make Sheldon jealous did not seem as brilliant. The fury was gone and replaced by resignation. She shrugged. "Something to help me forget."

"Me too," he smiled at her, "Or in this case, I'm looking at textbooks. I teach maths at UCLA."

"I used to work there before I moved to Caltech," she offered, and then they began a conversation on their work and science more generally. It was nice to talk to another scientist at an intellectual level and not have her field be demeaned and ridiculed.

They talked for over an hour until they heard the intercom announcing the store would be closing in fifteen minutes.

"I should be going," Amy said, reluctant to end the conversation.

"Me too," the man said. He looked nervous, like he wanted to say something but was not sure how. "I would like to do this again sometime. Meet up with you that is. Do you fancy grabbing a coffee sometime?"

"Yes. That would be nice." She cut off his rambling and fished in her purse for a business card she kept in there. Writing her cell phone number on the back, she handed it over to him. "I look forward to seeing you again."

They parted ways and Amy left the store without even buying a book. She'd arrived at the bookstore in a tizzy and now she felt like she was walking on cloud nine as she made her way back to her car. The drive to her apartment seemed shorter, easier, and she no longer drove like a reckless lunatic determined to cause a crash. One chance meeting with a random stranger and already her day felt better than before.

That was until she arrived back home and she spotted the Youtube video still up on her computer. He had not taken it down after she yelled at him to. She could not have it still up and she was at a loss of what to do. If she of all people could not make him remove it then there was only one person she knew of who could.

She scrolled through her contacts list until she found the number of a woman who only called her one time, but she knew Sheldon's kryptonite and she was going to use it. He could not get away with what he said and she knew deeply religious mother would not approve of his ill-conceived, no pun intended, video either.

"Hello, Mrs Cooper. It's Amy. Sorry to disturb you so late but..."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Some dialogue comes from 9x03.

* * *

Mrs Cooper already knew. Maybe Amy felt a bit guilty using Sheldon's mother against him, but when she told Mrs Cooper about the video, Mrs Cooper was shocked, and though she seemed beyond disappointed about the break up, sad for her son most likely, she agreed that the video should be removed. She did not raise her son to speak about women in that manner, nor was it acceptable no matter how hurt he might be from the breakup. She promised she would give Sheldon a talking to and have him remove it, something for which Amy was immensely grateful.

One problem taken care of, the next one Amy had to move on to was Penny's bachelorette party. Penny was not particularly enthusiastic about the party and it seemed she and Bernadette cared more. However, that did not stop her from volunteering to make dessert. Her research on the internet told her it was customary to have phallic shaped confections at a bachelorette party. Her sugar cookie recipe was easily adaptable, and rather than using cookie cutters, she used a butter knife to carve out penises from the rolled dough. With the little bit of dough left over, she was even able to make them anatomically accurate, both circumcised and uncircumcised.

When she arrived at Penny's apartment with the frosted cookies, her two friends appeared shocked by the precision. That did not deter them from eating the cookies, more by her coercion than anything else. Penny drank a lot of wine to fortify herself to eat the cookie, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Amy, but as long as she ate the cookie Amy was not going to bring up the topic of alcoholism.

Listening to Penny talk about her love life was a breath of fresh air. She could be happy for her friend's repaired relationship. Besides, it was nice not to have the gossip centered on her for once.

Unfortunately, Bernadette turned the conversation back to her failed love life. Failed. Failure was something she experienced very little and it was an uncomfortable topic. She said she was alright. She told them that she was contemplating changing her wardrobe.

Amy was offended at Penny and Bernadette's strong and visceral enthusiasm for the change. She was not thrilled with her appearance, but she was content with it. She was not one of those girls who spent hours a day in front of the mirror. She did not wear much makeup. It was an unnecessary social construct and sexist to boot. Some might call her clothes frumpy, and even Penny said they belonged in Forever 63, but they were comfortable. The coverage was her armor against the world. While other women her age, particularly the single ones, were eager to flaunt their various assets, she felt better with them covered. She might want her body to be admired but she cared more that men noticed her brain first. If a man admired her, she could be certain it was because he noticed her mind, not just her chest or legs. When she told them she reconsidered her decision to change her wardrobe for exactly that reason, they were both disappointed, and Penny even tried to tell her it was normal to change one's appearance after a relationship. Maybe it was normal. Penny had more than her fair share of breakups, but even if it was normal, Amy did not want to change who she was to fit a societal expectation of female beauty.

She thought she was being scandalous deciding to pierce her ears. Her mother did not approve of woman with pierced ears, calling them prostitutes and sinners and a whole other host of insults associated with women of loose morals. Perhaps her decision to pierce her ears was as much a screw you to preempt her mother's certain disappointment over her breakup as it was over a desire to pierce her ears.

Penny and Bernadette were both surprised she had never had her ears pierced. It was, apparently, a common aspect of growing up. Girls got their ears pierced. Yet another coming-of-age ritual she missed out on. No matter. She could have it now with her two best friends.

Penny even volunteered to pierce her ears, and by volunteer, she meant coerced. Weary at first, Amy sat down while Penny sanitized the needle and with a lemon wedge stolen from 4A's fridge, pierced her ear. It was not that painful and Penny quickly put in one of her earrings, also sanitized. She did it. It might only be a small change to her appearance, one most would probably never notice, but she felt like a different woman.

Sheldon, she was sure, would notice the pierced ears the moment he saw her next, and it would surely upset him. But they were broken up and it was no longer his place to care about that sort of thing. Whether he was upset or not she did not care. He had no influence over her life anymore.

Then came the not fun part of girls night/Penny's bachelorette party: the talk with her mom. Penny and Bernadette were both shocked she had not informed her family about breaking up with Sheldon, but then again, why would she? A lot of her family died in tragic accidents, and she was not on close speaking terms with either of her parents. She got along only slightly better with her father than she did her mother, but still it was not enough to make her want to tell them about her life.

Besides, once she told her mother she knew exactly what would happen. Her mother would not believe she was the one who ended it, assume she fabricated her story to save face when the only man who ever showed a significant interest in her broke up with her. It did not matter that none of it was true. Her mother would believe it anyways. Then her mother would pressure her to make amends with Sheldon, and when she failed to do that, her mother would once more pressure her to date, all the while lamenting about how lonely and unfulfilling her life would be without a man. Even worse, she would lament about her continued lack of grandchildren and that being a sore spot for Amy, she knew she could not put up with that.

She tried everything she could to wiggle her way out of calling her mother, from pretending to be sad over the death of a pig she never met—and one she wanted to eat though she wasn't about to tell Penny that—to the fake dial.

Penny and Bernadette saw through her tricks. She never was one for being able to lie convincingly.

The second time she actually dialed, hoping her mother would not pick up, but after she ignored the last few messages from her mother, it was a lost cause. Her mother answered on the first ring.

Her mother was doing good and work was good. She asked for family gossip, knowing it would distract her mother. There was little Mrs Fowler enjoyed more than saying _Hey, look at what these people are doing. My life is better than yours_. Her cleaver plan to talk on the phone without saying anything of import fell apart when Penny grabbed the phone.

"Amy broke up with Sheldon; she got her ears pierced; and she made us eat peanut cookies."

No matter how hard she listened she could not make out what her mother was saying to Penny, but that did not stop the dread she felt as Penny handed the phone back to her.

"Amy Farrah Fowler, how dare you get your ears pierced!" her mother yelled.

Of all the things she had to focus on, Amy was glad it was that and not Sheldon. Pierced ears and penis cookies she could and would defend her actions. With him it was harder. She just wanted to be happy and move on with her life. Not be blamed for everything that went wrong.

"I raised you better than to go around looking like a prostitute. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I don't know what's happened to you since you met those friends of yours but it's like your an entirely different person. The daughter I raised cared more about self-respect than bowing into peer pressure. The daughter I raised did not make 'penis cookies', whatever those are."

She did not know what to say. She was a grown adult but as her mother scolded her she felt like an adolescent again. It's not that she couldn't defend herself—she was more than capable of it—but rather she felt like a child who had to take the scolding. It did not make her feel guilty in the least, perhaps only that she put off telling her mother, and strangely enough, there was no mention of her breakup.

That would come. It was the most unavoidable of them all. Her mother was probably saving that delightful conversation for later.

"You are going to march yourself into Penny's closet and think about what you've done. Do you understand?"

"But mom," Amy tried to protest, knowing it would be futile. Her mother was a frail looking woman, but when it came to her daughter, she could be quite fierce. From a young age Amy knew better than to protest.

She might be a grown woman and miles from home but if her mother ordered her to go sit in Penny's closet like an unruly child, she would eventually give in. It did not matter she was an adult who did not have to anymore.

"No buts. Get."

"Yes mom," Amy reluctantly agreed.

"And give your phone to your friend Penny. I don't want you distracted while you think about what you've done."

"Yes mom," Amy said. She hung up and handed the phone over to Penny. It took a quick explanation and then she was sitting on the floor of the extremely messy closet. Clothes and shoes were scattered everywhere, and she could not tell whether they were clean or not. She closed the door behind her, and even knowing that it was not locked like the sin closet in her childhood home and that she could leave if she wanted to, she stayed put.

Her mother sentenced her to an hour in the closet, without even her phone to distract herself. It was going to be a long hour. Bernadette left, and Penny too, left, though for what reason she left Amy could not determine.

She sat. Her mother wanted her to reflect on her actions for being bad, and yet her actual reflections were far off. The cookies were fun. She also drank alcohol and went to bars, something her mother would disapprove of as well. She did not feel bad about that. It made her feel normal. It made her feel like she was an integral part of her social circle being invited to partake in their most beloved rituals. Piercing her ears was something small, something she figured she would soon forget about. It would become just another part of her appearance, a part she briefly looked at in the mirror each morning and gave no further consideration to throughout the rest of the day.

Her thoughts turned to Sheldon. She had to stop thinking about him. There were broken up for a reason. She could not allow herself to be hurt again. She had to be strong. Firm. She heard his voice, slightly muffled, from the hallway, and Leonard's and Penny's, though it was not loud enough for her to hear what they were saying.

She needed children. He refused to have them. She wanted to compromise. He refused to because it would ruin his ability to achieve his dreams. She did not want him to resent her but nor could she compromise. He wanted to avoid serious conversation. She wanted space. He inflicted his presence on her. She just wanted a peaceful night with her friends as she got over her disappointment at not being her best friend's maid of honor when Penny and Leonard eloped. He made insensitive comments about her impending infertility as she aged. She broke up with him because he was selfish and immature. He kissed her and gave into her demands as she knew he eventually would if she pushed hard enough. She lost her ability to think. His fingers brushed against her bare skin, eventually coming to almost second base. She pushed him away. He would give her anything if she would only stay his girlfriend. She refused to be the woman who ruined his dreams and was firm in her resolve to stay broken up. He left.

He left. Just like that. No goodbye. No sorry. And then he would not leave her well enough alone. He tried to infuriate her, to ingratiate himself back into her life but she would have none of it. If she let him in, gave even an inch, she knew she would give in.

He would get his way. With her, he almost always did. Sure she forced some changes on him, changes he eventually accepted and even seemed to like but she had to use force all the same. On this, she did not want to force him. If Sheldon never wanted children, she would have to respect that.

She would regret letting her fertile years pass her by as she waited for Sheldon to be ready for something he might very well never want, or worse yet, for their glacial relationship to progress slowly and that by the time they were finally on the same page, she would be incapable of having a child herself. That would truly torment her.

No. It was for the best that they remain broken up.

On the plus side, she already had one date lined up. He was British and he, too, knew what it was to be in a bad relationship. At least he had been married. No matter. Likely anyone she met at her age would be divorced. He was nice enough. He liked books, given that they met at a bookstore, and he was intelligent. Perhaps not as intelligent as her ex-boyfriend, but her was a math professor at UCLA so he had to be decently intelligent. She suspected she would be able to hold a conversation with him.

She could also find other men to date. The last time she tried dating around, it was because she was forced. The men often went running, especially when she informed them she did not want to have coitus. Ever.

She was a different woman, more mature. Coitus would no longer be off the table. She wanted to know first hand what physical love with another human would feel like. She craved emotional declarations and wanted to give them in return without having to worry she would be rejected. Perhaps being single again would be good for her. She could enjoy dating now like she was incapable of before.


	11. Chapter 11

Amy should have known going to a bar without Penny or Bernadette was recipe for disaster, but she was a single woman on the prowl and isn't that what she was supposed to do? To go to a bar and wait for someone to buy her a drink.

She felt silly sitting at a table by herself with nothing to eat or drink. Eventually, she ordered herself a drink, feeling slightly humiliated as she sat there sipping it by herself. All the joy of going to a bar was gone and she felt more alone than ever before. Or she was just more sensitive to being alone now she knew what it felt like to be with someone. She listened to the piano music. It was a welcome distraction from her solitude.

"Recent breakup?" a voice said to her, only it wasn't a male voice. The owner was female.

"How did you know?" Amy asked.

The owner of the voice sat down next to her. She was short with purple streaks in her dark brown hair.

"Sweetheart, you're drinking by yourself at a bar and reek of desperation. Your friends are in happy relationships, even married. Yes. Newly weds. To make matters worse you just broke up with someone, long term relationship most likely, and are looking for a rebound. Am I right?"

"How did you know?" Amy asked, amazed that a complete stranger could tell that much without even talking to her. Did she really look like someone recently broken up and looking for a rebound? Which, if she was honest, was exactly what she was doing at the bar.

The woman shrugged. "Call me psychic. I have a gift. I just know."

"There is no evidence to support psychic abilities exists," Amy said monotonously.

"One of those science types aren't you. No matter how much evidence I give you, you won't believe I'm psychic because you don't understand it. That about right?"

Coming to the bar was a bad idea and not for the reason she thought. The woman sitting down next to her was a nutjob who believed she was psychic, and yet she knew a lot more about Amy's life than she should have. There could be an explanation. Another patron at the bar who knew her personally and told the woman with purple streaks. As she looked around, however, she saw no one she recognized. Still, there had to be a logical explanation even if she did not know it yet. All she had to do was employ her significant intellect and she would figure it would and expose psychic for fraud.

"I believe in facts. Not fiction," Amy said cooly.

The woman shrugged. "Suit yourself, honey, but the way I see it, you're bored and lonely. You have something to prove and you thought you could come here to do it. But this isn't your type of place. You don't belong and you know it. So what is it? Friends who often come here with you."

"I do belong."

"I don't think you do. But if you want to sit here being lonely, suit yourself. If you decide you want to live a little, I'll be at table eighteen."

The woman left as quickly as she came, leaving Amy without even a name to go off of. Not that she wanted a name or had any intention of joining her, whoever she was.

Rather than order a second drink, she settled her tab at the bar and though she should probably leave and she determined there was no point in staying further, she remained seated, mixing her straw in the unmelted ice even though the rest of the drink was gone.

Did she look desperate? She did not think she did, but maybe she did look it. Else why had no man attempted to talk to her? From her studies of the bar's patrons, there were at least eleven single men she could count, and possibly more. Even ruling out those too young or too old for her, there were six potential males, none of which seemed to notice her at all.

"Hey doll. I couldn't help overhearing you're a bit lonely. I have a penthouse apartment and a bottle of champaign. Why don't you come back to my place and we can _celebrate_?"

Her instincts when it came to men were not the best yet she already knew something was off. He was attractive and yet he made her skin crawl. She knew what he meant by celebrate and though she wanted to loose her virginity, she did not want it to be a one night stand with a sleezeball stranger. With him, she was also sure it would be unsafe. She was not desperate enough to place herself into a dangerous situation.

"No thanks," she said, hoping her rejection would send him away. If anything, it had the opposite effect.

"I bet you got an itch to scratch, babe. Why don't you let me help you with that?"

"I'm not interested," she said firmly, glad she had only one drink and was still sober. For the most part. Coming to drink at a bar alone was a bad idea she now knew. Luckily it was crowded and she figured she was safe for the moment, but he was sending vibes that made her very uncomfortable. She felt a desperate need to get away yet anywhere else she could go would be less crowded and there was safety in numbers.

"I think you are," the man slurred. He was well into his cups, and that must have been the reason his hand found her thigh. It was clothed, of course, but she flinched away. Where she went his hand followed. She brushed it off and he replaced it.

"Get the fuck away from me," she said at last and abruptly stood up from the table.

She walked away and she heard him follow her. Damn it but she could not leave the bar. Calling the police might be a bit hasty, and she did not want to anger him. He was drunk and clearly did not understand the meaning of the word no. She could not tell whether he would become volatile or not and she did not want to find out.

Perhaps the woman with the purple hair was the lesser of the two evils and she made her way over to table eighteen.

"Hello," she said and sat down next to the woman who was accompanied by two other females. Safety in numbers. They were strangers as well, her brain told her, but at least they did not seem creepy.

"Don't be like that, babe," the man whined, still not dissuaded from chasing her.

"Go away," she said again, even more firmly than before but he ignored her command.

"You heard the girl. Go. Or I'll tell the bartender about those twenties you snatched from the cash register, who will call the police, who will find the stash in your glove compartment."

The man held his hands up in the sign of surrender. "Calm down, lady. I didn't mean nothin' by it. I just think your friend's pretty."

"And not interested."

"I don't want any unpleasantness. I'm going," the man agreed and backed away. Once he was gone, Amy turned and thanked her unexpected rescuer.

"I don't know why you said that to him but it worked. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it sweetheart. It was all true, you know."

"How could you know that?"

The other woman shrugged again.

"I told you I'm psychic. Your choice not to believe me."

"I didn't believe her at first either," one of the other woman chimed in. She had short blond hair cut similarly to Penny's. "But she was right often enough and I eventually had to. I'm Sarah, by the way. And because she probably forgot you can't automatically tell her name like she can yours, she goes by Violet. And this is my partner, Molly."

"Hello," Amy said, and repeated each of their names while doing so to make sure she remembered.

"Oh. Right," Violet giggled. "Girls, this is Amy. She's a scientist. Studies the brain and smart as a whip this one."

"So you're the one who's finally going to discover she's a fraud," Molly joked. At least, Amy thought it was a joke.

"I intend on it." She scanned the room and saw the man from earlier cleared out. It would be safe for her to leave.

"Listen, thank you again for helping me out back there but I should be leaving," Amy said.

She stood up. And didn't get far.

"Goodbye, Amy, but it's alright if you want to join us. Just drinks. Get a soda if you want since you're uncomfortable around us. We don't bite. I promise. Well, we don't bite hard." Violet grinned up at her.

For some reason, she did want to join the strange trio. She shouldn't want to and her instincts told her something was off, but they had helped her and she did not think they intended any harm. They were different from her regular group of friends, but different did not necessarily mean bad. Perhaps it was her wanting to rebel all over again but she sat back down and even ordered a Corona.

"Since you apparently already know I'm a neuroscientist—" Amy frowned, she would have to figure out how Violet knew her name and occupation without her ever having said it "—What do you do for a living?"

"I told you, sweetheart, I'm a psychic. People will pay a pretty penny to hear that they'll be wealthy in the future. Doesn't matter that I tell them they'll be unhappy; all they care about is whether they can get ahead in life. But you. You don't care about that sort of stuff. You're down to Earth. I like that."

"Thank you," Amy said to the strange compliment. "And what about you two?" she asked to be polite. It was, after all, better than arguing with Violet about psychics. The woman was a bit crazy, or perhaps delusional, or unintelligent. It would not do for her to tell that to the new acquaintances, however, especially when it was Violet who helped get the man harassing her to go away.

"I'm just a waitress right now. I ain't smart like you," Molly said.

"Molly. You shouldn't put yourself down like that," Sarah said, "And she's studying to be a therapist. Working on her master's degree right now."

Amy said, "There's nothing wrong with being a waitress. One of my best friends waitressed while she was worked on her PhD in microbiology. Now she works for a major pharmaceutical company." Amy then turned to Sarah. "And you? What do you do?"

"In between jobs at the moment," Sarah said.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Don't believe her. She's working on her MBA."

Amy found it cute how the couple interacted, familiar and proud of the other. It made her a bit jealous, though she said nothing.

"That's nice. Where at?" Amy asked instead.

"USC. Almost done though."

"This is boring," Violet complained. "Amy, tell us about the guy," she demanded.

"Who says I'm here because of a guy?" Amy replied defensively. She wasn't. Not really.

Fine. Maybe she was. She didn't want to appear pathetic even to people she'd never see again.

"Sweetheart, there's no other reason you'd be here all by yourself. So dish. What happened?"

Sarah might look the most like Penny but Violet acted the most like her, eager for gossip Amy did not want to give.

"Can't you intuit it?" Amy asked.

"Psychic, not a mind reader. Now tell us what happened?"

Amy sighed. It wouldn't really matter if she told them anything. LA was a big city. She likely wouldn't run into them again.

"Fine. We just wanted different things. It wasn't going to work out so I broke up with him. End of story." Only it wasn't the end of the story. Far from it. Before she knew what she was saying, she added, "Sheldon . . . Sheldon didn't have much of a sex drive either. I had Gerard, my electric toothbrush that is, whenever I wanted to."

Sarah laughed. "That's just the same thing, isn't it."

"I didn't like the fact that my boyfriend didn't want to sleep with me. I'm a thirty-five year old virgin." She wished she knew how to compare Gerard to the real deal but she quite simply didn't. The Corona on top of the cocktail must have been stronger than she thought, but she always was a forthright person. Even sober she probably still would have told the girls those things even though she barely knew them. It also felt a bit cathartic to talk about Sheldon with people who did not know him and were not his friends first. They had an outsider's perspective, and perhaps that was what she needed over Penny and Bernadette's advice.

"You might not like that Sheldon didn't sleep with you, but you did something together didn't you? Something you maybe wanted him to do it again?" Violet suggested.

"Being cryptic like that only confirms you're a fraud," Amy said. Be just vague enough, get a person to reveal what was actually bothering them, and spin the scenario like she knew all along. That was Violet's trick. Too bad it was easy to figure out. Amy could have used more of a challenge.

"Fine. It was something kinky. Hmm."

"Yes. But that still doesn't confirm you know anything." It really was pointless of Violet to continue her charade now Amy had her found out.

"He spanked you," Violet said suddenly.

Amy had no idea how the girl knew all those personal things about her, and while some of them could be found on the internet, the only other person who knew about the spanking was Sheldon himself. She had not told any of her friends and she trusted him not to tell them either. Perhaps the three girls did know Sheldon, but he would not tell them about that, would he? And it was unlikely he even deigned to talk to them in the first place. They were not the type of people Sheldon associated with. They were not the type of people she generally associated with except for her loneliness and need to get away from the creepy guy, she would not be talking with them either. There was no possible way Violet could have known when even Penny was in the dark as to that particular event.

"How did you know that?" Amy narrowed her eyes, determined to get to the bottom of the proposed psychic abilities. Apparently she did not have Violet's trick as figured out as she thought.

"I just know. Your boyfriend did spank you and you liked it," Violet repeated.

Amy frowned, and saw Sarah was studying her. When did this become about her and her life? She was worried that Molly was in a bad situation and now it was her ex boyfriend they were discussing.

"Yes. Fine. I liked it. But it was only the one time. I was sick and he took care of me. Normally he ignored me, you see, but for once he was paying attention to me and so I pretended to be sick after I was better so he would keep taking care of me. Then he found out and we agreed that I should be punished for lying to him, and then he wanted to spank me which meant he would touch me; I let him."

"You did more than let him. You enjoyed it. You were a bit bruised but you enjoyed it," Violet said.

"It's alright to enjoy it," Sarah said. "Some people do. There's nothing wrong in two consenting adults doing something they both like."

"I guess," Amy found herself agreeing. Perhaps she was wrong. However, just to be sure, she looked at Molly. She seemed the most normal of the three and while she was not a therapist yet, she was more qualified than anyone else Amy knew with the exception of Beverly Hofstadter, and she wasn't about to call Leonard's mother for insight anytime soon. She didn't want to cry.

Molly enthusiastically nodded her head yes. "It really is alright. Even normal. Not that there is a universal normal."

"Alright," Amy agreed. For whatever reason, she did believe Molly.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Some dialogue from 9x04

* * *

"Sorry I'm running late," Amy apologized and sat down at the table next to Dave.

The man she met at the bookstore smiled at her. "That's alright. I'm glad you came."

Amy smiled. "I really am sorry. I'm not usually late, but one of the monkeys in my lab figured how to undo the locked door. Anyways, I spent the afternoon chasing him around campus."

Dave chuckled. "It sounds exciting," he said. Amy noticed that his body leaned towards her smiled in return.

"It wasn't that exciting. Just frustrating."

"Anyways, what would you like to drink?"

"Tepid water please." Dave looked at her like she was strange. Should she have ordered something else. She drank tea frequently. Given that they were at a coffee shop perhaps she should order coffee, but she was not a big coffee drinker. She did not like the way it made her buzz around more energetically.

Even if he thought her order strange, Dave still brought back the tepid water for her. She took a sip. Nice and relaxing.

"And how was your day?" Amy asked.

"Good. Good. Excellent actually."

"That's good." There was a brief silence and Amy took a sip of her water. "What part of England are you from?" she asked.

"Surrey originally," Dave answered.

He was nice, she supposed, and though now the date felt awkward, she suspected she just needed to give it time. It was not awkward at all when they first met, and there was no reason it should be now. She just needed to find something to talk about.

"My dad's family was from Manchester," Amy said. Relaying personal information was one way to get to know a person, though she was unsure of its effectiveness in this scenario.

"Really? Have you ever been?" Dave asked. Amy suspected it was to be polite, or perhaps to latch onto a topic of conversation.

"Not to Manchester. My mom doesn't like to travel much. The closest I've been was Oslo. I studied there for a while."

"Yes. Lovely city. Did you have the chance to tour around?"

"A bit," Amy said. "I saw the Scream. Mainly I was too busy with my research to enjoy the city."

"That's a shame," Dave commented.

Amy took a sip of her water. "Maybe," she agreed, "but I didn't think so at the time."

Now they had a topic of conversation, the rest of their date was pleasant, and though Amy decided it was time to leave after an hour, they made plans to meet again, the next time for dinner. As she left, she felt a bit of accomplishment and also disappointment. Dating was not as easy as she thought it would be. She was late, and felt hurried. Then, it was hard finding a topic of conversation. She forgot what it was like to not be around someone familiar all the time. Someone whom she did not have to try and draw out.

She went back to her apartment. She needed time by herself to think, tempting though it would be to call Penny and brag about going on a date.

She just wasn't ready to answer questions yet, not even Penny's.

What she was not expecting when she got home was in incoming Skype call. Not many video chatted with her; there was mainly one person who she knew of; with an equal mix of curiosity and trepidation she answered the call to find it was Sheldon.

Without as much as a hello how are you he began talking. He presented what was, no doubt, a well reasoned, logical argument, citing how they were both tidy, already knew the other's personal habits, were mentally and intellectually suited, how she was amenable to driving, and already knew his favorite food and schedule. Once her credit check came through, they could be roommates.

Amy knew Leonard moved in with Penny, no doubt causing Sheldon's search for a roommate and knowing how particular Sheldon was, he failed to find an acceptable roommate on his own. He thought of her. A couple of weeks ago, she would have been thrilled. Flattered. She would have happily moved in with him and not looked back. Things were different now.

They were broken up and being his roommate would be nothing less than traumatic. "No Sheldon," she told him, and despite that Sheldon argued with her.

He was lonely, that much she could tell. He was happier when he had people around, and he blamed her, Leonard and Penny for making him happy. For making him acknowledge his emotions. His exact word was poisoned.

No matter that she might feel some small degree of sympathy for him, she hung up because it was the only thing she could do. Rather than call Penny, who was closer to both the situation and Sheldon than her, she called Bernadette.

They met up for drinks and she told her friend about Sheldon's offer.

"I can't believe he asked you to move in with him," Bernadette said.

"I can't believe he ran my credit," Amy said. That was not what she was surprised about. Well, just a little. Sheldon knew her well enough she was surprised he did not already know her credit score. No. The entire reason he thought he could ask his ex girlfriend to move in with him after everything that happened was what baffled her.

Rather than offering some kind of reasonable explanation, Bernadette only said that Sheldon was a weirdo. Though they were broken up, she still defended him. He was brilliant and particular, but weirdo was too strong a term. Too negative. She did not see it as a negative quirk about his personality.

Amy briefly considered telling Bernadette about her date but ultimately decided against it. She knew Bernadette would tell Penny and the two women would harass her for details she did not want to give. That in of itself was unusual. She rarely shied away from telling anyone, let alone her two best friends, the minutiae of her personal life. Such details often made people uncomfortable, but now the thought of sharing them made her uncomfortable.

Whatever the reason she did not know, but after they paid the bill and Bernadette left, Amy hung behind. She spotted a familiar face. Violet.


	13. Chapter 13

The law of large numbers mocked her. In a city of over 18 million people, and without exchanging any contact information with any of the women from the bar, there was no possible way she ran into her again. It was too unlikely, and yet that hair was unmistakable.

She was glad Bernadette was gone, also unwilling to introduce the two women. Because she was embarrassed? That was a new feeling for her. All she knew is that she did not want Bernadette to know she was pathetic enough to go to a bar by herself to pick up men, and then to fail.

"Amy?" Violet said. "It must be fate that we are both here."

"There is no fate. Just random chance."

It was the middle of the day. Well, not the middle of the day, but they were in a bar just after lunchtime. What was the other girl doing there she had no idea, and even though she spoke with Bernadette she still felt angry at Sheldon.

"That's just like you, Amy. Anyways, the girls and I are going to have some fun. Want to come with?"

She knew better than to get into a car with a virtual stranger. Boy did she ever. She also knew better than to agree to go to an unspecified event in an unspecified locale with people she barely knew without informing a single person about her whereabouts or activities. Perhaps it was the wine talking but having fun sounded . . . well . . . fun. She needed a break. She was disappointed that her date went well but not fantastic. She was still angry that Sheldon could not leave her well enough alone, the one thing she asked of him, and so she said yes.

She hopped into the passenger seat of Violet's car. She did not text her friends about her plans, or when to check and make sure her body was not abandoned in some alleyway, only that she needed to get away from everything. Work. Life. Her entire life was falling apart and while work was a constant, it wasn't everything; she needed more.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked, curious about what they were going to do.

"You'll see when we get there," Violet said and stopped in front of a house. Sarah and Molly came out and climbed into the back seat of Violet's car. They had a cooler they stashed in the trunk, another secret which Amy was not supposed to know, before driving away.

Rather than just a short trip through the city, Amy soon knew they were heading northwest towards the ocean. They drove for about two hours, and Violet eventually pulled onto a small dirt road. It became bumpy and Amy clutched at her seat. This was how she was going to die. Murdered by strangers in the middle of nowhere with no witnesses all because she got into a car with people she did not really know and only because of the alcohol and her frustration. Now the alcohol was gone and her anger and disappointment abated, all that was left was detached curiosity and a healthy respect for her mortality.

"This is it," Violet said and cut the ignition. Amy looked out the windshield. There was the ocean in front of them. The girls hopped out of the car and Amy followed. What she did not expect was for the three to begin stripping off their t-shirts and shorts.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Violet laughed, her voice carrying on the wind.

Amy moved closer to the cliff face and looked down. About thirty feet to the ocean by her estimation and no way to tell how deep the water was. A jump from that far up could very well kill someone. A slip and fall the wrong way, hitting one's head on the way down, drowning, sharks, an undertow. There were any numbers of dangers, and there the girls were, stripping down to their bras and underwear in the middle of broad daylight. Granted, no one else was around but it was indecent.

"Come on, Amy, you don't want to get your clothes wet," Sarah said.

Amy turned around to face the three girls whose clothes were now in a pile on the ground, their shoes lined up in no specific order right beside.

"I'm not jumping," Amy protested. It was too dangerous. Too high a risk of death. And to think she was previously worried about the girls murdering her and hiding the body. Now she had a much bigger problem to deal with.

"It's perfectly safe," Molly said, "We've done this before."

"You're crazy," Amy protested. No way was she jumping off a cliff. She valued her life. Maybe she was not at her happiest but nor was she unhappy enough to be suicidal.

"I . . ." Amy looked down at her layers. Her sensible shoes, her leggings, her corduroy skirt, her button down and her two cardigans. It might be warm outside but she was dressed conservatively and for winter as she did all year long. It was how she felt most comfortable in her skin. She couldn't just take her clothes off in public. It was indecent. It was unheard of.

It was simply not like her.

Strike that. It was the exact opposite of her. Then again, desiring coitus and a boyfriend who wanted to be physically affectionate with her, wanting a family of her own, having friends and caring what they thought of her, all of that used to be the exact opposite of her as well. She used to chase off friends, did not drink, did not play, did not have fun, did not date voluntarily. Then all that changed when she met Sheldon and became a part of his friend group. When she became a part of Penny's world.

She changed, and in retrospect, it was for the better though her younger self would have vehemently protested each and every change as unnecessary. Not even in the locker room had she been dressed as casually as to expose her shoulders. She certainly never put her chest or legs on display.

These girls were different. Wild—but not Penny's type of wild. It was less ditsy and more primal. They were not like her. Different. Perhaps that was what drew her to them, even when she knew she should leave, she stayed. When she should have followed Bernadette home she got in the car with Violet instead. That, too, was not like her.

Maybe being not like herself was what she needed. She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned the top cardigan and shrugged it off her shoulders. Two layers down, still completely covered, and she still felt naked already. The second cardigan and socks followed. Now her feet were exposed. More skin than she usually showed.

She took a deep breath and noticed the three girls looking at her, waiting. She closed her eyes as she slid her skirt down. Skin still covered yet shielding her armor piece by piece. There were not many pieces left.

She took a deep breath to fortify herself and unbuttoned her shirt. Once it was gone, only her bra would be covering her top half. The leggings came next. A breeze gave her a slight chill, perhaps because she was never that uncovered before, and certainly not before people she barely knew, but they were just as exposed as her and appeared comfortable in their own skin.

Amy moved to the car and sat down on the passenger seat, her legs hanging out the open door. Violet, Sarah, and Molly were talking. She took her glasses off and stowed them in the glove compartment for safe keeping. It was an added bonus her vision went blurry.

The ocean far below became fuzzy, and indeterminate distance away. Her bare feet hurt as she hobbled over the rocks to the girls.

"Ready," she said but she did not feel ready at all, a large part of her brain yelling at her to put her clothes back on and get the fuck out of there. Call Penny to come pick her up, if she could only figure out where she was. She stayed; her sensible bra and underwear, still comfortable, not enough coverage. Not enough armor. She might as well be stripped bare. For all intents and purposes, she was.

Violet grabbed her hand and dragged her forward. She stood on the edge of the precipice with the violet haired girl, second away from jumping, and she froze. There could be rocks down below. Sharks. Anything. Without her glasses, she could see none of it, simultaneously a blessing and a curse. She could not do it. Her life was to valuable to end in such a frivolous manner. What would her mother think? Her mother would have her institutionalized. Drinking. Going to bars. That was child's play compared to this.

Penny might cheer her on, but then again, Penny became more sensible as she matured. Bernadette would tell her not to. Sheldon would drag her away from the cliff face and talk her out of the foolish idea, and then he would scold her for being stupid, and his disappointment would ensure she never attempted something like it again.

That last memory settled any inner turmoil. People thought they knew her. Then she surprised them by breaking up with Sheldon. She did not have to be trapped by the way people viewed her, or even the way she viewed herself. She could be free. Molly said they did it before. That it was safe. It was not safe, but that did not mean it would not be fun. That she would not die.

Amy tightened her grip on Violet's hand and opened her eyes. If she was going to die, she would at least be looking towards her death; she wouldn't jump with her eyes closed.

"I can't do this," she said aloud.

"But you can," Violet said. "On the count of three. One. Two."

Before the girl could say three she lunged forward, pulling Amy with her. Then they were falling. The air rushed out of her lungs and her stomach sank. 9.81 meters per second per second. That's how fast she was falling, plus or minus 0.002 meters per second per second depending on the exact radius of the Earth at that unknown locale and the upwards force of air resistance, little though it was doing to stop their descent.

Their fall should take only second. Were she not scared she could easily calculate the exact time till impact given the height of the drop, but as it was her knowledge of physics rushed out of her mind, as did all thoughts of biology and what forces the human body could withstand without dying.

All that was left was the rush of adrenaline and the blood chorusing through her body, the warmth of Violet's hand in hers and she grasped it, hurtling toward the water. The wind licked at her skin, and then came the abrupt dousing. The slight pain of impact from high up, and her instincts ensured she held her breath.

They must be at least twelve feet under water, she thought. She let go of Violet's hand and began swimming upwards. She kept her eyes closed against the saltwater and breathed out as little as possible. There was no solid ground beneath her feet and she did not know how far away the surface, and consequently air, was.

Her head bobbed above the surface and she gasped in a huge breath of air, and then she laughed like she never had before. A full throated laugh, but not because of a joke, not because anything was humorous, but because she was alive, and not just alive in the sense that her body was metabolizing carbon and oxygen, but that she felt alive. She was living. Experiencing. She was alive.

She cleared the water from her eyes and looked at Violet, a huge grin on her face. "Thank you!" she exclaimed.

Violet began swimming a little bit away from the cliff face and Amy followed, floating on her back to look at the two girls still standing on the cliff face. Then they jumped and Amy almost felt as if she was reliving the whole experience all over again. They were moving fast, and had she blinked she would have missed the descent. She closed her eyes reflexively to protect against their splash of water.

"We did it," she all but screamed when Molly and Sarah swam over to join them. "We did it and we're still alive."

She got it now, the joy of the dangerous activity. The thrill of adrenaline. She could not wait to get back to her lab and put electrodes on the brain as she simulated the fear response. It would be an interesting study, another stop towards understanding behavior.

"How do you feel?" Violet asked her.

"Like I'm walking on air. And like I want to put electrodes on all of you and figure out what is going on in those brains of yours. And mine," she added for effect. It would be fascinating to see which parts of her brain were lit up at the moment.

Violet laughed. Then, before Amy could fully process what was happening, the violet haired girl kissed her. Her legs beat harder to kept her head above water. The kiss tasted like salt and sunlight and though it was surprising it was not exactly unpleasant.

"What was that?" she asked when Violet pulled back.

Violet shrugged. "You looked like you could do with a little sugar. Now come on, let's get back up."

Sarah led the way to a small section of cliff face low enough down for them to scramble out of the water and start climbing up. It was difficult going, their wet bodies making the rock slippery and the hand and foot holds were difficult for Amy to find without her glasses. Perhaps it was a good thing she could not see well without them. It made it easier to ignore the thirty food drop, and drop that would surely kill. She never before went climbing in her life, but even so she knew the basics. Three contact points at all times. Hand hand foot or hand foot foot. Never any less. Especially without ropes and the risk of falling too great.

When they came to the sharp top of the cliff face, Sarah wedged herself into a crevice, both her bare feet and hand firmly planted. Amy watched in blurred awe as Molly first used Sarah's knee and then her shoulder to heave herself over the cliff face. Violet repeated the process as quickly as Molly did.

"What do you say, Amy? Up for a little more adventure?" Sarah said, and Amy knew it was her turn next. From their speed it was clear Molly and Violet knew what they were doing but she was clueless. She did not know how. She was not physically active and her upper body strength was poor. She was not sure of her ability to climb, let alone up a person. What if she made the both of them fall?

"I can't," Amy said.

Sarah looked at her. "Amy, this is the only way up from here. You'd have to swim three miles to get to the next section that can be climbed without rope. And you need my help. There's no hand or foot holds at the top and you can't stay down there forever. Low tide will come in and it'll get too shallow."

"But what if I make us fall?"

"You won't," Sarah encouraged her. Amy did not feel as sure.

"We could. There's a 36.5 percent probability that—"

"—Amy," Sarah cut her off, her voice firmer than before, and without even knowing why, Amy felt her mind focusing on the assurance in the tone. "You are going to put your foot on that rock two two feet below your left hand."

Amy followed the instructs. Sarah gave them to her one by one, telling her where to place each of her hands and feet. It made the climbing easier. She did not have to focus on what to do, did not have to think or plan. Just listen to the more experienced woman and climb.

The first problem came when she was told to step up onto Sarah's knee. She did not want to use the woman as a human latter but the softly spoken but firm command had her placing all her weight on the knee. Then went her foot into a small crevasse on the rock face, her arms extending upwards and her foot following onto the shoulder. Push up with the leg, do not pull up with the arms. An easy enough command to obey.

She could listen to those commands and follow them, mimicking the motions less effortlessly than the earlier demonstrations but still ascending. She pulled herself up over the top and lay on her stomach, looking down. She was exhausted, fighting the waves and then climbing rendering her more tired than she would have thought possible. She rolled out of the way when Molly and Violet laid down on the cliff face and reached their arms over the sides to help pull Sarah up. Once all four girls were safely recovered, Amy looked towards the car.

She and Violet retrieved the cooler from the trunk and in it was beer and chocolate. How she needed both of those things, and she was unsure which one to dive into first. They sat for a while, enjoying the view of the ocean as the sun set. The temperature dropped sharply and the breeze picked up. Amy felt cold with so much of her skin exposed but she also did not want to put her dry clothes on over her wet underwear. It would only soak them through to.

An hour before she had be to cajoled into removing her clothes and now she felt perfectly comfortable in her own skin. None of the three girls looked at her funny or stared; they just talked, as if being in their underwear was normal.

Given that they had done this before, perhaps it was. She did not feel the relief she would have expected when she put all her layers back on. It was a comfort being back in her familiar mode of dress and yet now she knew she could be comfortable otherwise. She was still in no rush to buy a different wardrobe with less conservative options; Amy was still Amy Farrah Fowler after all; yet she also did not feel out of place anymore.

Violet drank only one beer, Amy watched her to make sure she was still sober enough to drive when they climbed back into the car to return home.

When Violet asked where Amy wanted to be dropped of, she gave the location of her car rather than her apartment. While she could have Penny or Bernadette take her the next day to retrieve her car and although she considered herself on friendlier terms, if not friends, with the three women, she also was not comfortable with them knowing where she lived quite yet.

They dropped her off right by her car and she sat in the drivers seat. Her skin smelled like salt, she was sure, and was beginning to tingle from not being washed. She should drive home. Her stomach was hungry for dinner, not just beer and chocolate, and her buzz died down enough to safely drive, and even as the other car sped away, Amy sat there.

It was a fun day. She proved she could go far outside her comfort zone. She proved she was not boring but lively. She jumped off a cliff. She climbed up a cliff face.

None of that was like her.

Without the influence of Violet, Sarah, and Molly, however, the cold rush of reality crashed down upon her like the waves against the cliff face. Fast and shattering.

She could not act that recklessly again. She was lucky to still be alive and she should appreciate her life. Yes, she might have felt more alive then than ever before but it was a fleeting feeling, one born of adrenaline and dopamine and not genuine.

Violet promised her a fun day and it was. Yet she also knew she could not do it again. She could not see them again. Without her address, they would have no way to find her given she also had not given them any of her contact information. Had she a way to contact them again, she probably would have, but where would that lead her? Seeking one thrill after the next with uncertain conclusions? That was not her, and no matter how much she enjoyed it it never would be.

It was for the best, then, that she was once again alone.

She drove back to her apartment and let herself in. Her endocrine system settled back to normal and she felt the crash coming. Wearily, she showered and ate dinner before falling into her bed.

What had gotten into her?


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Some dialogue comes from 9x05.

* * *

Being with Penny and Bernadette again was a breath of fresh air and as they sat in Stuart's comic book store, she felt her sense of equilibrium returning to her. Instability was something to be expected from breakups, and her unstable time was over. She was on the right track again, ready to keep going.

Though Stuart asked them to come over, needing female advice or some such pretext, Amy was surprised when he explained his dilemma: how to get more females into the comic book store? Her first instinct was to tell him he was trying too hard; a designated breast feeding area complete with a camera was just creepy.

Instead she told him about the artwork. For years the comic store ambushed it's patrons with large bosomed, unrealistically proportioned females and sexist artwork. The posture on the wall right in front of her was case and point. The female in the picture was on her knees wearing only a bikini and a collar attached to a leash held by a buff man bearing a whip. Did Stuart not see how misogynistic the poster was? It was no wonder there were not many females in his store. She, for one, felt uncomfortable looking at that poster, but it was also not the only one of its kind, simply the one that was closest to her.

Amy found it creepy, though not surprising, when Penny read the odd things Stuart did when there were females around. He sounded creepy to her ears as well. She tried to comfort him, opening up about her loneliness before she met Sheldon and her insecurities around Penny and Bernadette until she was finally accepted. Sure she insinuated herself into their lives, inviting herself along when it was clear they did not want her around and then pretending not to notice the reluctance with which they finally invited her. Nor did she need to tell him about how she was willing to go along with any activity either of them proposed even if she did not want to simply to have friends to be around, and how she wished she could propose an activity but knew that her presence was already unwanted and trying to convince them to go to an activity she found enjoyable and they did not would be a Herculean effort, and one she was not willing to attempt for risk of alienating her friends.

She was insecure but not any longer. Or, at least, not as obviously. It helped she had friends who actually liked and cared about her. Friends who stayed with her even after she broke up with Sheldon, the reason she was friends with them in the first place. She was also capable of meeting people, and had even been on one date already though she did not feel comfortable telling any of her friends about it yet.

Used to feeling undesirable to anyone except her ex boyfriend, and even then undesirable to him most of the time as well, she was surprised when Stuart hit on her. They went on one date a couple years back and while it was alright, most of what she remembered about that night was her joy at Sheldon asking her to be his girlfriend at last and her excited acceptance. She never saw Stuart in a romantic light and only went on a date with him to make Sheldon jealous. There was no use leading him on and, for knowing Stuart better, she knew that he was not her type. They would never suit, and she witnessed his slip into depression. He used to be more normal and less pessimistic and weird, normal being a relative term. While the transformation made her want to see inside his brain, it did nothing for her libido.

When they got back to Penny's apartment, Amy expressed her dislike of having to turn Stuart down, rejection being something she gave little of in her life. Ever.

Not moments later Barry Kripke sent her a text. She did not ever recall exchanging numbers with him, so he probably got her number from the employee database. Perhaps a bit disturbing was the naked picture he send her. He asked her out to drinks or dinner after work. Unlike with Stuart, she was unsure how to reply to Barry. Should she say yes? He was intelligent and a physicist and as a bonus he and Sheldon were rivals.

"I assumed I would eventually date other people but this is happening so fast," she said. Because she could go on a date with Dave and it could pass unknown, but she knew with the rate at which gossip traveled through Caltech, even the slightest sign of encouragement she showed towards Kripke would be well known by everyone the next morning. She wasn't ready to make her status from not dating to dating again public. Not yet.

"What would it hurt?" Bernadette asked.

Nothing. It would not hurt a single thing and that frightened her. It frightened her because Barry Kripke was a lot like Sheldon; replace exercise and a healthy libido with Star Trek and ferroequinology and they were the exact same person. Theoretical physicists and geniuses.

"I was hoping the next person I date would be a little less like Sheldon."

Being around Barry Kripke would hurt. She could not be around someone like Sheldon without being around Sheldon. The close but imperfect replacement would be just that. Imperfect. Flawed. Not him. It would be a strong reminder of what failed. When Bernadette asked her if she was attracted to Barry, she honestly did not know. He was, by many standards, considered an attractive man for his age. He was intelligent and made a decent living, he was responsible and had muscles from exercising frequently. His biggest downside was his speech impediment but she could overlook it, perhaps even help him with it by reconditioning his brain to process language better. Yet if the problem was that when she thought of sleeping with him, she did not feel moisture gather in her underwear the way it did when she thought about Sheldon making love to her, not that he ever would have anyways. Her pulse did not speed up and although she could not see them, she knew her pupils did not dilate. The majority of evidence seemed to point to the fact that she was not physically interested in Barry Kripke and therefore going on a date with him was wasted effort.

She tried as gently as she could to let him down, not wanting to hurt him any more than she did Stuart but still knowing she could not date him.

Given the proximity of her best friend's apartment to her ex boyfriends, she should not have been surprised to run into Sheldon at some point. She and Bernadette were heading out when the ran into Leonard and Sheldon.

"Hello," she said awkwardly. She willed her pupils not to dilate as she looked at Sheldon with his utter lack of fashion sense that was somehow sexy. He looked exactly the same and yet he looked different. She could not place what it was.

"Hello." Sheldon said back to her. Keep moving down the stairs, her brain tried to tell her feet but they did not listen. Instead they stayed firmly planted and facing Sheldon.

"We should let you guys talk," Leonard said.

"Yeah," Bernadette agreed, and the two hurried for the opposing stairwells to make their escape.

"You don't have to leave," Sheldon said in a last ditch effort to keep himself from being left alone with Amy, a sentiment she appreciated having no desire to be alone with him. The pain was too fresh.

"We're gonna go," Leonard said and sprinted up the stairs before Sheldon had time to stop him.

Bernadette was not as quick. Amy chased her across the hall. "Bernadette, you're my ride," she pleaded. Her friend was seriously not going to leave her there alone was she.

"Walk," the petite blonde woman snapped at her in her shrill voice.

With no other recourse, Amy turned to face Sheldon. Tall and handsome. She felt the familiar heat behind her ears and around her neck that she got whenever she saw him and thought he looked sexy. That was arousal, the kind that softly simmered while Sheldon ignored all her cues and that she would later handle on her own with Gerard, her electric toothbrush.

"How've you been," Amy asked.

"I'm doing alright. I tried fencing today." If not for the awkwardness of their forced conversation it would sound exactly like their normal discourse. Stiff. Direct. Informative. No need for small talk. Straightforward and to the point to avoid confusion and reduce the inefficiency of wasted filler conversation.

"How'd that go." Her response was automatic, born of ingrained manners, and yet she still cared about Sheldon. Still wanted to know the answer to his question. To know more about his life even as she tried to distance herself from him.

"It was pretty easy. I think my background in mathletics helped." Sheldon twitched almost imperceptibly, but her keen eye picked up the small movement. She spent her life studying monkeys and humans were a different primate. She would be a poor scientist if she failed to observe the small details that were often the most telling.

"Barry Kripke was there," Sheldon added. "I have to let you know he expressed interest in asking you out."

Once that would have sparked jealousy in him. Going on a date with another man was the spark that incited their relationship. Former relationship. She already knew about Kripke, of course, and though she owed him no explanations, she wondered if she should be honest.

Honesty was her MO, and a dark little part of her brain encouraged her to show the text itself to Sheldon, the way to rile him up the most. He really would not like her having a picture of another man, naked no less and adequately endowed, on her phone. She could make him squirm and worry but petty games were beneath her. She was a neurobiologist. She might enjoy studying brains but she was not one to engage in mind games.

"Actually he already did," she confessed.

Sheldon looked taken aback but beyond that she could not tell what he was thinking. He was a closed book to her, strange considering how often she was used to reading his every emotion. He was very expressive that way for all his inability to perceive emotions in others.

"Okay. But don't get too attached to him. In two years, three hundred sixty four days he's a dead man."

Without further information she could not know what to make of that statement, but she did know Sheldon thought he was making sense. Regardless, it did not matter what exactly it meant but she could tell enough to notice it for the jealousy that it was.

Sheldon was jealous of her dating other people and while it should not make her elated, it did. No matter what he seemed to think her goal in life was not to make him miserable. Rather, she wanted him to care about her. She could tell him she said yes to see if he would get even more jealous, if he would even try to talk her out of it, and while it was a tempting experiment, she and Sheldon experimented on people together. That was one of their things. She did not experiment on him, and he was clever enough to see through it should she try. It felt wrong to use him as a test subject.

"I said no," she said bluntly. He deserved to hear the truth. For all his faults, he had been a good boyfriend for her. Their relationship lasted as long as it was meant to but no longer. In the end he was not enough and their ambitions were too dissimilar to reconcile. He and them both had faults enough but he was a good boyfriend. He introduced her to his friend group and made her feel included. She blossomed as a person because of him. She learned the value of love and relationships because of him, ironic as that was one of the few things he never sought out to teach her.

"Interesting. I asked two women out today and they both said no."

That was surprising. Sheldon was not the type of man to ask a woman out. He was not the type of man to notice a woman was, in fact, a female, focusing on her mind over her genitalia.

"I didn't know you were interested in dating."

"I've been told it's a good way to move on."

He was in pain because of her. That was harder than having to reject Stuart or Barry. Them she was on friendly terms with but Sheldon she still loved. He tried to move on only to make himself feel better which meant a part of him was not okay with their breakup. That gave her some satisfaction even if it rang hollow.

"Oh. Okay." She nodded her head, grasping at straws for what to say next. Say something. Get out of here, her brain told her. "Anyways it was nice to see you. You look good."

 _Don't tell him that_ she berated herself. That gave too much away and made her vulnerable before him, admitting she was still attracted to him albeit in a round about manner. It was true as well. He did look good. Different, somehow, but good. And the smell. It was not his pure talc scent. There was something else there too, something she could not quite identify, a scent that was neither good nor bad. It simply was.

Oblivious to the subtext behind her comment, Sheldon said, "Thanks."

Amy felt relieved he had not picked up on her compliment. It was best he did not know she still loved him and was still attracted to him. Any encouragement on her part might give him incentive to chase after her to try to repair their relationship and she could not have that.

"I taste good too," Sheldon added.

Whatever that was about, Amy did not know. She watched him as he ascended the stairs, leaving her on the third floor landing alone. Anyone else and she would say the comment to be suggestive but with Sheldon she doubted he even knew what his words would typically insinuate. No use thinking about it anymore.

Without Bernadette to give her a ride home and unwilling to go ask Penny for a ride—she was too intoxicated to drive for a few hours anyhow—she called a cab instead. She waited downstairs inside the building for her ride to arrive.

She climbed into the taxi and gave her address, watching out the window in silence as the darkened scenery passed by. Maybe she should be upset by what occurred and yet she was glad she wasn't. Upset. Fine. That was a different story entirely.

 _I hope your day's going well._ She glanced down at the text and saw it was Dave. Wrapped up in her own life she did not even have time to think about what their date meant. She was foolish. Just because she went on a date did not mean they were destined for a relationship.

 _It's alright. Yours?_ she texted back.

 _Alright. Two truths and a lie._

Abrupt change but maybe it was the distraction she was looking for.

 _I'm from Denver. I have been cliff diving. And I play the harp._ She pressed send and waited for the answer. Nothing came right away, and she figured Dave needed time to figure out the correct answer.

She paid the driver when he dropped her off and went up to her apartment. She used to like being alone. Or, at least, she did not know any other way to live than alone and did not mind it. The solitude was cloying.

 _Definitely cliff diving. You'd never go cliff diving._

 _Wrong,_ she sent back. _I'm not from Denver._ It was simple and Sheldon would have figured it out in a heartbeat, even before he knew her that well. The cliff diving would have been a clear yes, something incongruous enough it could only be true and thrown in there to mislead. From the callouses on all her fingers she played the harp, not just a string instrument or the piano and because the callouses were only on her finger tips and not all over her hands she could not be a gymnast, a rock climber, or any other type of athlete. That left the clear answer that she was not born in Denver.

 _You don't seem like that type of girl,_ Dave responded.

Amy frowned. What was that supposed to mean? That she was not fun or spontaneous or reckless? Truth be told she was none of those things but neither did she want to be known as dependable and boring.

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ Best to seek clarification before being insulted.

 _You don't seem the type to of girl who takes risks._

 _You don't know everything about me._ There. That would put him on the defensive. Put him in his place for judging her.

 _I'd like to._ That was, perhaps, the one answer that would have erased all her negative thoughts and she had not even thought of it.

 _I'd like that too_ , she responded right away, and then, embarrassed and nervous at the new potential for the conversation to turn deep and emotional, she quickly added, _Your turn._

She waited for a bit as Dave typed in his answer. At least he failed in his turn; if she failed, he had no standard by which to judge her; if she figured it out correctly, she would have what? Proven herself superior? That was not what she was going for. Lucky guess? She did not believe in luck. Was it better to be wrong even if she figured out the correct answer? The reason she seldom dated was because it was hard and she wished she had Penny to consult at the moment.

But it was her life and her potential boyfriend. Potential boyfriend. When had that happened? They only went on one date.

 _My birthday is in June. I played rugby in Uni. I can't stand fish n' chips._

That was a difficult one, even more so than hers. The first was most likely to be true. Slender as he was, she doubted her could have survived rugby against larger, beefier men. Yet he was British and they though fish n' chips was the bees knees. Both were incongruous according to what she knew about him, which was little but enough to go on.

Tall as he was, he would make a better basketball player than a rugby player. The best lies were based on the truth. She discovered that while monitoring Penny's brain activity while she lied flawlessly. That made the second sentence the one most likely to be false.

 _You never played rugby._ She texted.

Rather than a verbal response, Dave sent her a picture of what appeared to be him at a much younger age in a sports uniform, on a grassy field, beaten up and bruised. There was even blood. Following the picture, Dave sent, _Wrong. I did play rugby. I can't stand fish n' chips. The fish that is. Not the chips. I love chips._

They were both wrong, no winner or looser to the game. Whether getting the answer wrong was better or worse she did not know, only they were tied.

 _You really don't like fish n' chips?_ she sent, trying not to be amused at the thought. Whenever there was fish n' chips on the menu, her father's side of the family, the British side, ordered it. It did not matter what type of restaurant they were at or what else was offered. If a cursory glance turned up fish n' chips their decision was made.

 _Scandalous. I know,_ Dave sent.


	15. Chapter 15

While there were still a few days until their second scheduled date, Amy was pleasantly surprised with the frequency at which they texted each other. He was an easy conversationalist and for the most part they traded stories about their lives. Certain topics, previous partners and the like, were off limits by an unspoken but mutually understood agreement. They did not talk about their work either, something she wanted to bring up but was afraid it would be rebuffed. How often had Sheldon undervalued her work accomplishments because they were in the field of neurobiology rather than theoretical physics? Would Dave be the same way? Would he not be interested in what she did because it was biological and not mathematical in nature? She supposed she should find out, unwilling to put up with that unique brand of discouragement a second time around. She could . . . she would do better.

If he was going to be superior about his work, there was no place for a relationship to go. It was best to call it quits before her heart became engaged and inevitably made the conclusion worse. Yet perhaps he would be encouraging: he was a math professor which mean he was intelligent enough to understand her work and discuss it with her, something she rarely did with her other friends because Penny did not understand and Sheldon ridiculed it. Bernadette was the only person who was both interested and could keep up with her shop talk, but the times she and Bernadette were alone to talk about their respective work was few and far between.

She no longer had those restrictions placed on her. Rather than checking her most recent text from Dave—she assumed it was him when her phone vibrated though she did not check the screen to be sure—instead she stood outside a little Italian restaurant waiting for someone.

Waiting for a man she did not know. Whether she would be stood up or not it was difficult to tell. What she did know was that the man was an accountant from Connecticut and was in LA visiting his sister, one of her work colleagues. Earlier that morning Cathy had mentioned in passing her brother was visiting her and how she felt guilty about leaving him alone all day because of an unexpected hitch in her experiment that required she put in overtime in her lab.

An hour later, Amy accidentally let on both that she broke up with her boyfriend and that she had no plans for that evening, and while two separate comments, Cathy connected some dots and before Amy knew it she was agreeing to entertain Cathy's brother while he visited and Cathy unavailable.

Cathy assured her that she would find some suitable restaurant for them to go to for dinner. Feeling uncertain of the concept of a blind date, Cathy assured her it was simply one colleague doing a favor for another and not a blind date.

The cute little Italian restaurant Cathy told her to go to looked like the perfect date night spot and Amy felt both angry at the deception and apprehension for the intrusion of a complete stranger.

"Dr Fowler?" A voice said behind her.

Amy turned around. Whoo. The man was smoking. "Yes," she said, dazed, trying with all her might to recall the name of the man she was supposed to be meeting.

"Oh, right, sorry, I'm Cathy's brother, Alex."

Had she said 'Whoo' aloud? From his response she suspected she did.

He held his hand out for her to shake and she reciprocated, hoping her hand would not feel as warm and clammy as it did to her. Whether it did or not Alex made no comment. They stood there in awkward silence and thankfully it was not too long before the hostess called her name to be seated.

"Cathy tells me you're an accountant," she said conversationally.

She promised to give other people a chance and while he was attractive, his profession rendered him a bit less so. Distanced as he was from STEM, she could not help but wonder whether it was a disinclination for the sciences or an inability to perform them that had him in his current job. If the former then she had to be worried about his lack of intellectual curiosity and if the later, well, she did not suffer fools easily, her beautiful, vivacious bestie being the one exception to that rule.

What was she even thinking? This was not a date, even if it looked like one. She was doing a favor for a colleague. She could very well be sitting across the table from a sister than a brother and it would not be a date. Yes. That was it.

"I am. I recently got a promotion to branch manager at my firm," he said, and while he looked proud, Amy hardly cared.

"Congratulations," she said and it rang hollow. She didn't know him well enough to care about his accomplishments. "What made you interested in accounting?"

Alex shrugged. "The rules. The details. It's meticulous work but. . ."

Try as she might to concentrate on what he was saying, Amy felt herself zoning out and was glad for the interruption their waiter provided when he took their drink order—just tepid water for her thank you very much—and gave them their menus. Although she quickly decided on the ravioli, she perused the menu for much longer, giving her a polite excuse to not talk to her dinner companion for a little longer.

Her plan was put to it's expected end when the waiter returned to take their order and removed the menus, leaving them alone to their awkward conversation.

"You're a scientist like Cathy, right?" he said.

She was being ridiculous. He was perfectly amiable if not particularly interesting. She could, for an hour or two, not be rude an follow through on the favor she promised to do.

"I'm a neurobiologist like her, yes," Amy agreed.

"What do you study?"

"I'm currently studying nicotine addiction in primates," Amy said, and continued explaining the finer points of her research. If her eyes glazed over earlier when he spoke of accounting and finances, his expression became equally glazed over as she talked about brain chemistry and signaling pathways.

"You study the same thing as Cathy," Alex said when she came to a stop, realizing a further explanation of her research would be a waste of time as she was clearly boring him.

"No. Cathy studies cocaine addiction in mice."

Amy then launched into an explanation about how the research was exceedingly different but Alex became lost again.

"What do you do for fun?" she asked.

 _Please don't talk about comic books_ she mentally pleaded a tad too early. Comparatively, she would have preferred comic books to the exhaustive rundown she received about his hobby of fixing internal combustion engines in antique cars.

The waiter delivering their dinner provided a good enough excuse for them both to eat rather than speak, and when asked if they would like desert, Amy quickly declined. She suspected Alex was of a mind to say yes to desert, but once she declined he felt obligated to as well, a fact for which she was grateful. She did not know how much more boredom she could take.

When the bill came, she tried to pay her half. Recalling the cost of the food from the menu, adding on the correct tax and including an 18% tip exactly, she knew exactly how much she owed and had it in exact cash.

Alex refused to let her pay. Had she paid for her own dinner, she could have convinced herself that what started out as a favor was just that, rather than a failed blind date with a perfectly nice, attractive, but boring man.

At least he had not left when he saw her, which was something she supposed. He also walked her out to her car.

"It was nice meeting you, Amy," he said by way of goodbye. "Maybe we can see each other later."

 _No, we will most certainly not be seeing each other again_ she thought but did not voice aloud. Instead, she forced a smile and said, "Goodbye." Simple and polite without having to actually let him down and tell him that no, she was not interested because they had nothing in common. Nothing they could talk about. There was no way to say he was not intelligent enough for her tastes without coming across as rude and arrogant. Not that she would mind being thought of as rude and arrogant—she knew herself well enough to know that she often was—but the least she could do for Cathy was remain civil, even if she did feel betrayed at the blind date set up.

At least she was dating, if not successfully, and what a reversal it was. Penny used to be the one with a new boyfriend every week, going on dates with different men each night, and here she was, two dates in the span of the week and Penny married.

When she got back to her apartment, she finally had a chance to look at her phone. There were three texts from Cathy, Penny, and Dave. She ignored Cathy's text asking how the date was going. Her colleague would be receiving an earful about the ills of deception the next time Amy saw her. Penny asked if she wanted to have a girls night on Friday, a scheme she eagerly agreed to. It was too long since she last went out with Penny and Bernadette.

 _I hope you had a good day,_ the text from Dave read, a variation of the texts he normally sent her.

Other than the failure of the blind date, her day had gone well, and she told him as much.

 _Would you like to grab drinks after work on Thursday?_

 _Yes,_ she sent back, not even needing to check her schedule. If she was going to start dating, she might as well embrace it and what could a few drinks after work hurt?

She texted Dave for a while, and an observer in the room might have commented on the broad smile she boasted on her face. Bernadette would have stolen her phone and Penny no doubt would have come up with a sly comment.

Living alone maybe wasn't so bad. She could be left to continue her conversation in peace. That's what she told herself, at the very least.


	16. Chapter 16

"Amy, hi, be with you in just a second," Cathy called out when Amy entered her lab space.

Amy searched around to find an uncluttered section. Shuffling a few papers from a chair to the countertop, Amy took a seat and waited.

With nothing to do, Amy observed Cathy. She still hadn't forgiven her for the blind date. Not by a long shot. Cathy's brow was furrowed in concentration as she bent over the slides.

"Done," Cathy announced and pulled off her gloves.

Rummaging through one of the drawers, she pulled out a flash drive. "There you go."

"Thanks," Amy said.

Cathy pulled on a new pair of gloves.

"You're still mad at me. How many more times do I have to apologize?"

"At least once more," Amy said wryly. "Do you know how boring your brother is?"

Maybe it was a rude thing to say, but Amy wasn't feeling particularly charitable towards Cathy. Not since Cathy set her up on a blind date without even telling her about it.

"Yes. But I can make it up to you."

Amy could leave. She had the flash drive with the data she requested. There was no need to stay any longer, but if she returned to her lab, she would be stuck sitting for half an hour with noting to do until she could move onto the next stage of her experiment.

She might as well stick around.

With one hand, Cathy pulled up a spread sheet on the computer. "Can you read the top numbers off?" she asked Amy.

Amy turned towards the screen. "Column?"

"C."

"15.6. 18.5. 13.8."

"Just the first one again."

"15.6."

Cathy adjusted the volume on the pipet. While focusing her attention on the microtube, she said, "There's this guy I know from my yoga class."

"No!" Amy exclaimed. She wasn't stupid enough to let Cathy set her up on another blind date. "Not after last time. You don't get to make it up to me with another blind date."

Cathy discarded the old tip and capped the microtube.

"Next."

"18.5."

"He's not an accountant. I promise. He's an engineer, really smart guy. He's single."

"I'm not interested," Amy said. If she was going to go on dates, she would find them herself. She wasn't going to accept her coworkers pity, and not so subtle attempts to find her a new boyfriend.

"Next."

"13.8," Amy red off from the third row.

Cathy adjusted the volume again and took the last tip. Amy searched the shelves for a box of replacements in the right size.

"Thanks," Cathy said. "Blond hair. Skinny. About five-eleven. He's a hottie. I really think you'd like him."

"I'm not going on another blind date." Amy checked her watch for the time. Still twenty five minutes until she could be productive again in her lab.

"He's a great guy. And flexible." Had Cathy not been concentrating Amy knew she would have winked suggestively.

"Next."

"17.2. If you like him so much, why don't you date him."

"I'm taken. What are you worried about here?"

"Another painfully boring date for one."

"Why not make it a double date? Next."

"9.3."

"Then if it's really painful, I'll be there."

"I still don't think it's a good idea."

"Next."

"11.1."

"Please. Let me at least try and make things up to you."

"You're not going to stop nagging until I say yes," Amy said with suspicion. She had what she came for. She could leave at any moment. Maybe her feet standing firmly planted in front of the computer was all the reason she needed.

As Cathy said, if it was a double date, at least Amy would not be alone with the guy. She would have her colleague and not-quite friend around to diffuse any tension.

"Nope. Next."

"14.7. Fine. I'll go."

"Yay! I promise you won't regret it."

Amy resisted pointing out that Cathy's statement was not a tautology and she should make claims she could not guarantee.

"Oh I think I will regret it," Amy corrected her. How could she not? If Cathy felt guilty and wanted to make it up to her, then fine. But that didn't mean Amy would enjoy the date.

Perhaps it was ridiculous of her to think she could find anyone who was completely suited her. It was hard enough to find Sheldon, and that only occurred after years of fruitless dating.

Maybe it was time for her to face the simple fact that she wasn't going to get what she wanted. Not everything she wanted. Maybe she could make compromises. Settle.

But what was the point of it all. Going through the pain to not have what she wanted. What she needed.

"Next."

"13.3. Fine. Does this mystery guy have a name?"

"Brian." Cathy capped the microtube and threw away the pipet tip. "There. All done. Thanks for the help, Amy."

She hadn't really helped so much as read off a few numbers. Amy shrugged. "Sure. No problem."

"Anyways, what days would work for you next week?" Cathy asked.

 _None of them,_ Amy wanted to say and renege on her agreement. It would be easier that way. Certainly less painful. And yet. And yet it wasn't that simple. Because what if her suspicions were wrong? What if Cathy was right and she actually did like him? Maybe it wasn't that bad after all.

"Tuesday or Thursday."

"Great. I'll let you know when I get everything arranged."

Amy checked her watch yet again. Time passed painfully slowly still, but if she walked slowly, then by the time she got back to her lab it would be time to continue onto the next step in her experiment.

"Alright. I should be going now. And thanks again for the data," Amy said.

"No problem. You'll do great on the presentation. We're all counting on you."

"I've got it under control," Amy assured her. "Anyways, goodbye."

"Bye," Cathy called out to Amy's retreating figure.


	17. Chapter 17

Perhaps the curse of living alone was easier to bear when she could escape the loneliness of the morning to go to a coffee shop surrounded by the 9 to 5ers in suits all scrambling to get their 8am caffeine fix before heading into work for the day. Her schedule was a bit more flexible, and though she could go after the main rush died down, she instead went right at the busiest time, the crush of bodies around her helping her feel not as alone.

She already pondered how for most of her life she was lonelier than she was now and did not even notice, and now surrounded by friends she felt like there was no one in her life. Not no one, per say, but she did not have the special someone she became used to having.

If having could truly be considered the correct word for her one and only past relationship.

She ordered her nonfat latte and instead of hurrying off to work like the others she sat down down at a table and watched the mess of people die down until only a few trickled in. She checked her watch. She did not have to be at work for another half hour yet and could enjoy the last bit of human companionship.

"Amy!" a vaguely familiar voice said from her left and a cursory glance in that direction told her exactly who it was.

"Violet," she greeted the other woman and stood up from the table to face her, not knowing exactly what to say or how to act after their last excursion and her assumption she would never see the woman again.

They met twice by coincidence but a third time was improbable bordering on impossible. There was something afoot. Random chance did not work with that degree of accuracy, let alone in a city as large as LA.

"Oh, good, I had the feeling I'd find you here. Come on," Violet latched onto Amy's hand and began dragging her out the door.

Violet led her over to her car and without as much as a how do you do seated herself in the driver's seat. Stunned, Amy slid into the passengers side.

"I have to go to work now," she said, not sure what to make of the abrupt forced exit from the coffee shop. She should not have gotten into the car. It was the work of the moment for her to get in without thinking of the consequences.

Violet shrugged. "But this is the last time I'll see you in a long while. Let's go somewhere. Do something fun?"

"Don't you have work?" Amy tried a different strategy. Perhaps she could have called the cops, should have even, with the way Violet kept appearing it was almost as if she had a stalker, and yet her gut told her the woman was innocuous enough.

Violet rolled her eyes. "Nothing I can't skip. Come on, Amy, live a little."

Living a little could get her fired. She had her research and her experiments. She had not told her boss, and though she had enough leave to take time off, she would need to put in notice. She was a good girl. She did not skive off work with someone she barely knew.

"I can't. I have work," she protested. Perhaps she should be protesting her lack of knowledge on what the violet haired girl wanted to do and yet she could not.

"Then let's go to your work. I've always wanted to see a lab."

That, Amy knew, was a recipe for disaster. Most of her friends except Penny and Bernadette worked at the university. She did not want them meeting the violet haired girl. She was reckless. Different. Amy felt they belonged to two different worlds and did not want them to meet each other and interact.

"Now's not a good time," Amy hedged, trying to figure out how to keep Violet from becoming offended when she had reason to.

Rather than become upset, Violet giggled. "Oh. I get it. I know the perfect place."

Amy dubiously watched streets pass by, unsure where the next great trip would lead her. She watched the rows of houses give way to larger houses further and further apart until they were gone entirely, leaving the natural visage to take over.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked.

Violet smirked. "You'll see."

She pulled off the road, and Amy worried once again they would go cliff diving, but there was no ocean in sight. They'd driven further inland. With three other people she felt comfortable, but with just the two of them? No. No way. She survived once she was not about to risk her life again.

Violet parked the car at the base of the cliff and started rummaging in the trunk. She handed a backpack to Amy and put one on herself. "Let's go," she said cheerfully.

Amy was not an athlete. She did not exercise. She was not strong. To say the steep upwards climb was not her cup of tea would be an understatement. It was hell. Through her cardigans and with the hot sun beating down on her she sweat profusely. Though Violet had water in the backpack, it seemed no matter how much she drank she could not quench her thirst and without knowing how far or long they were going on the steep uphill for, Amy also did not want to guzzle her water down and then be left without any later.

She knew the dangers of dehydration well enough even having never before had cause to worry about it. Rarely was she that far away from a faucet to be worried.

The walked uphill for about an hour before they crested the ridge. Amy could see a long ways, way too far for her comfort.

She never thought herself to be afraid of heights but when confronted with it up close, she was forced to revise her opinion. The slope they climbed up was steep and doable. Now, though, Amy gulped as she looked down.

"No," she said when it became obvious Violet was starting to fish climbing equipment out of the backpack.

Foolish her. She took the backpack and put it on without even checking the contents. She blindly followed Violet up the hill without even asking why. Now, she felt the queasiness coming on.

She should have gone to work and been the reliable, dependable, girl she always was. It was safer.

"Come on, Amy, put on your harness," Violet told her and started putting her own on. Amy found the harness in her backpack. Never before had she felt the need to go climbing, let alone out in the middle of nowhere with no one to know if they died.

She moved to the side of the cliff face to look down when Violet yanked her back.

"Don't get that close to the edge," Violet scolded. Amy retreated to a presumably safe distance. No. This was not for her. She was going to walk back down. It was simpler that way. Easier. Safer. She was not going to risk her neck for some cheap thrill.

Even so, she found herself removing her skirt to put on the harness, glad she decided to wear leggings that day instead of tights under her skirt. She was not sure whether she was doing it correctly or not, but it looked as Violet's did and as a safety measure she cinched the straps as tightly as she could manage.

Unexpectedly, Violet forced two fingers under the hip strap. "Tighten it a bit," the girl commanded, and determined she was not going to fall to her death, Amy complied. She stood back and watched the dexterity with with Violet secured the webbing to the rock and put the rope through the carabiner.

For someone as intelligent as her, she was way out of her element. Whether the anchor was safe or not she could not tell, only that she would soon be trusting her life on it. Foolish her. She should not have stayed at the coffee shop. She should have found her voice and insisted that she was going to work. She should have told someone where they were going so her friends would know where to look to find her body.

She was not inherently reckless but when it came to the violet haired girl she lost her sense of self. Became someone different. It was unsettling to say the least. Violet attached her harness to the anchor and now given the opportunity, Amy moved closer to the edge and looked down.

She swallowed thickly. There, below them, was the car. It appeared tiny from so high up. She understood the need to be harnessed in on the edge when a gust of wind came. It blew strongly at the high elevation with nothing around them to block it. A strong enough gust would be capable of blowing a person right off.

"How high up?" she asked nervously. Violet was in the process of securing the rope, doubling it through the carabiner and tossing it over the edge.

"Ninety feet," Violet answered, coming to join Amy over the cliff edge and looking down to make sure both strands of rope reached all the way to the ground with room to spare. Violet grinned. Amy wanted to puke.

"Ever done this before?" Violet asked.

"Risked my life falling down a cliff. No I haven't," Amy snarked. It was the best she could do, the only way to attempt to claim some semblance of her life back.

That only made Violet grin. "All the better. You'll love repelling. Nothing better than hanging on the side of a cliff."

Amy could think of a seemingly infinite number of things she would love more than repelling. Cutting her finger with a dull kitchen knife came to the forefront of unpleasant things to do that would still be better than being suspended in the air.

"Come on," Violet said and moved away from the cliff face. Amy followed and Violet removed them both from the anchor. She demonstrated to Amy how to use the rappel device. As the less experienced of the two, Amy was to go down first. And by less experienced, Amy meant totally unexperienced and completely out of her league.

She was a quick learner and after only two repetitions Amy felt she had a very comfortable understanding about what Violet wanted her to do. Thumb in butt to go slower, thumb away from side to go faster, and never let go of the rope. Fat chance of the last one happening. Ever.

Like hell was she going to let go of the lifeline.

Before she had adequate time to protest she was attached to the rope, Violet standing beside her on the cliff side.

The inherent danger in repelling seemed all well and good when it was an exercise in theory, but now, wind blowing her hair tied up in a pony with a drop on one side and solid ground on the other, it was a very different thing. A very different sport.

And it left her with her primary question: "How do I start?"

Violet's laugh sounded like a wind chime in the breeze. "It's the hardest part," she agreed.

With her encouragement, Amy leaned back over the edge, allowing her legs to go parallel to the ground ninety feet below.

Thumb to butt. She held her hand in place, her panicked eyes now staring up at Violet.

"I can't do this," she stuttered. She simply couldn't. This wasn't her. She did not live for fear. She did not live on the edge, quite literally, a fact she would appreciate more if she were safe on the ground and not suspended in the air.

"Walk your legs down and steady on the rope. You'll be fine," Violet encouraged.

Amy looked up at her. From her current position, there was no way she was strong enough to make her way back up to the top. She was trapped, legs perpendicular to the top of the cliff face. There was only one way she could go but down. If she was going to die, let it be sooner rather than later.

She slightly loosened her grip on the rope and moved her hand a little to the right. She felt gravity take hold as she moved down six inches. She quickly moved her hand back to the break position and her feet followed to the angle instructed. She looked up at Violet who was grinning.

"Only one way now," Violet said by way of encouragement.

Amy inhaled deeply. She could do this. She had no choice. Biting her lip in determination she allowed herself to slide down a bit more, moving in small increments, jerking to a stop, and then speeding up. As she gained a sense of the movement, she allowed herself to go a bit faster with fewer stops. As long as she did not look down, she could pretend she was not suspended in the middle of the air. That didn't stop her heart from racing in her chest.

She heard Violet screaming down to her but for the life of her she could not figure out what the woman was saying. She paused her descend and looked up. She saw Violet pointing to the left and gesturing her to move in that direction and she followed the instructions.

The reason for it became clear not that much longer as she passed a crevasse in the cliff face. Note to self: avoid caves. Now forced to look a bit below her feet, she went, slowly but steadily, downwards.

She felt lightheaded and willed herself not to faint. Faint and she'd die with no one at the bottom to stop her. She was on her own. Independent. Sure she'd been independent most of her life and was now well into her adulthood. It was different living in her own apartment and cooking her own food purchased from the supermarket than it was to quite literally have her life in her hands in the form of a 300 foot rope.

Then there was no cliff face for her feet to prop herself up against. She swung her hand back to prevent further movement. She looked down. Only thirty feet to the bottom and given the shape of the cliff face, she would have to hang the rest of the way for nothing to prop her feet against. There was only one way to go and she could hang in the air but not forever. Best just to get it over with. She moved her arm right again and loosened her fingers just enough for the rope to slide through her hand, and already she felt the descent going quicker. She did not like it and stopped the momentum. She looked down. About twenty five feet to the bottom and a long way back up. She quickly let herself slide down to get it over with, slowing her descent in the final few feet but her legs, unused to carrying her weight, collapsed under her and she found herself on her butt staring up at the cliff.

She swore she could hear Violet laughing at her clumsiness and glad no one was around to witness her ungraceful landing. She let herself off the rope and took a step back, glad to be on solid land.

Amy craned her neck upwards. Violet descended much more quickly than she had and landed on her feet like a cat. Amy subconsciously brushed the dirt off her butt.

Violet pulled the rope and she packed everything back up into the bags. Amy felt better in her skirt and the harness gone.

"Wasn't that something," Violet said, her eyes shining with excitement. "Want to do that again."

"Truthfully, no." Having done it once she felt no desire to repeat the experience. One time was enough for her.

Violet shrugged. "Come on then," she said, bouncing back to the car as if she was not traumatized by the entire experience which, Amy supposed, she was not.

"Hey, babes, I'm bringing Ames with me," Amy heard Violet say over the phone.

Great. They weren't going back. Just her luck. She desperately needed a warm bath, a bottle of wine, and Chaucer to relax. Instead, she was who knows where and not going to return home.

"Mind meeting up with Sarah, Molly, and some friends of ours?" Violet asked once she hung up.

Amy looked to the clock in the car. By the time they got back into LA, it would be after dark. It was already too late for her to go in to work. The entire day was a loss and she had nothing to do for the rest of the day. Why not? If she was going to not be herself, she might as well go all the way.

They were headed back to LA, thankfully enough, and Amy was glad once she was back in familiar territory.

She lost track of where they were once again when Violet began navigating residential roads, eventually parking on the side of a crowded road. Amy followed Violet into what was some kind of party.

The strobe lights created a dizzying effect. She wanted to leave. She wanted to see more.

"Amy!" Molly exclaimed and hugged her, and Amy said her hellos to the girl in return. After cliff diving, she felt a solidarity with her that was hard to explain. She greeted Sarah as well and was soon introduced to many more people. The beer helped her relax.

The vodka helped her relax more. She let the dizziness go to her head as the stress from the day flooded out.

She was walking on the clouds, her feet seemingly floating beneath her as she stumbled through the strange house.

"Hey, baby, I heard you had quite the day today," someone said to her. She looked up at the face but the strobe lights were blinding and she could not identify it. Through her ethanol induced haze she felt uncomfortable as the person, man, woman, other, she could not identify, ran their hand down her arm.

She did not like people touching her. She wanted to leave. She could not identify the face through the blinking strobe lights. Amy turned around, surprised to find that Violet, Molly, and Sarah were nowhere in sight. When had they disappeared?

"Let me go," she protested and stepped away. The person let her go, and yet her mind thought they followed. Kept touching. Hand moving lower towards. . .

No. That was inappropriate. She could not let them touch. Only no one was touching her. No one was around her except the bodies pressing up against her on all sides and ignoring her.

She stumbled towards where she thought the front door was, only to be confronted by the kitchen. Turned around and not tall enough to see over the crush of people, she moved until she felt the waft of cool air and followed it outside. The strobe lights were still something fierce but outside on the grass she could finally breath.

She did not know where she was and she felt light headed. With the new moon, the street lights were not enough to keep the darkness away. The alcohol kept her calm enough to not panic but there was no way she was going back in the house to find Violet. The girl would be too drunk to drive anyhow. Amy fished her phone out of her pocket, glad it was still there and had some battery left.

Her screen unlocked to pictures of her rappelling. Another time she might have admired the way she looked badass in them. She did not recall Violet taking them or even handing over her phone yet with her nerves that must have been what happened. She moved to her contacts and then could not figure out who to call.

What would she tell them? She went with a virtual stranger whose last name she did not know, to skip off work and go rappelling, and then somehow end up at a party where she recognized not a single person in a neighborhood she did not even know of let alone if it was safe, and then proceeded to drink herself into a stupor.

Gods she was stupid. _I'll lock you up in the sin closet._ Her mother was out. _Coffee flavored liquor? Is this the moment my mother warned me about when the popular girls tempt me with drugs and alcohol? Yes, please._ She held up her bowl of vanilla ice cream only it wasn't vanilla ice cream but her phone. Penny and Bernadette were out.

There was no one she wanted to call.

"Amy."

She must have pushed the call button for the wrong person. It was all wrong. It was not supposed to be his voice over the phone. She did not want to cry. To break down.

"Amy?" the voice said again, a bit more concerned. Still she could not bring herself to answer. To admit her downfall to him of all people. No. She couldn't.

That voice. She missed it. She was supposed to be moving on but her intoxicated brain could not bring herself to care.

"Amy? Are you there?"

No. She wasn't. Don't say anything. Hang up. "Help me Sheldon," she said instead.

"Amy. What's wrong? Where are you?" She heard the panicked voice over the phone and felt a rush of elation that he still cared about her. He was still worried.

"I'm at a party. I don't know. I want to go home."

"Are you drunk?"

Rather than answer, she whined, "I want to go home."

"Amy, tell me where you are," Sheldon demanded. She never heard him sound that stern and commanding and maybe it was her intoxication talking but he sounded sexy too. Amy heard voice over the phone, hard to hear over the loud pulsing of the music and through her lack of concentration in wake of the flashing strobe lights.

"Don't know," she got out again."

"—No Leonard . . . Amy . . . needs help . . ."

"Help me Sheldon," Amy pleaded again. She wanted to leave. She wanted out. It was dark and cold even through her cardigans and she was lost and alone.

"Sheldon," she whined over the phone. She was desperate and alone.

She wanted away. She wanted to be sober. She was never drinking again. Amy needed more beer and vodka to keep her panic at bay.

Her phone battery died and she did not know how long she sat out on the damp lawn, the water soaking through even her numerous layers. She needed to stay alert yet her head hurt and the world spun. She'd stay awake but maybe if she closed her eyes her head wouldn't hurt as bad.

"Amy! Amy!" A voice called out to her.

She opened her eyes, surprised to find herself laying on the grass. She shivered, feeling the cold from the water that soaked her to the bone.

"Sheldon," she slurred as her sexy preying mantis dropped down onto the dew-kissed grass next to her. No. Not her sexy preying mantis. Not anymore. Not since she broke up with him. Emphatically.

"What happened?" Sheldon asked frantically. "Are you alright?"

"You smell good," she said as she leaned into his body, trying to enfold herself in his warmth.

"What happened to her?" That sounded like Leonard's voice though she did not look at the man to be sure, instead keeping her eyes closed and her face burrowed into Sheldon's shoulder. At least she thought it was his shoulder.

"I don't know. Let's get her home," Sheldon said. Amy protested as she felt him pulling away from her and she stumbled to follow him. Sheldon guided her a bit down the street and she was glad as the noise faded slightly. He slid her into the back of the car and rather than sit up front as he usually did, she sat down next to her while Leonard started the car.

She felt him fasten her seat belt for her and she expressed her thanks by falling against his warm body.

"Cold." She shivered.

"Turn up the heater all the way," Sheldon instructed, taking off his coat and putting it around Amy's shoulders. Leonard did as instructed, and while the two men in the car found it hot, Amy continued shivering.

"We need to get her out of these wet clothes," Sheldon said, "Drive faster."

Amy giggled. "Drive faster. I never thought you would say that," she slurred. She giggled to herself. "Sheldon needs to drive fast. I need to get laid."

"Oh boy," she distantly heard Sheldon say, but now in the car with Sheldon and Leonard she felt safe like she did not before. She was taken care of. She loved him.

"Make love to me." She pulled Sheldon down for a drunken kiss and though her aim was his lips she missed and kissed his ear instead.

Sheldon sighed.

"You're drunk," he calmly explained.

"No I'm not . . ." she protested.

"Go to sleep," Sheldon said instead.

"Sing soft kitty to me," she demanded. Soft kitty. What a funny song. What a good joke it was to be sung to like a young child. She giggled at her self.

"It's a kitty and it's soft. It's soft kitty," she said, laughing again at the new revelation.

Sheldon began singing to her and reluctantly she felt her body relaxing against him, seeking his warmth, and tired from the day, her thoughts faded away as she closed her eyes.

She did not want to sleep. She wanted to stay awake and make love to . . .

". . . happy kitty, sleepy kitty/ purr purr purr."

It felt like a train rammed straight into her head. She knew the feeling of a hangover and that was one hell of one.

What happened last night? Memory loss and raging headache, the joys of a night of drunken fun. Or misery.

She vaguely remembered strobe lights and loud music and and abundance of vodka. She remembered a cliff face and ropes and hanging in the air. The panic at being touched by a stranger and then the recollection that no one was touching her at all, a mere trick of her imagination. Walking on air and being trapped in the house, stumbling her way outside and collapsing onto the grass.

Cold. Wet. Her head pounding she looked down at her clothes. They were not her work clothes from the day before but her nightgown.

Someone changed her into her nightgown. But who?

She looked around the room. There was a scent in the air. Her bedroom smelled like babies, only that couldn't be right. Her glasses were neatly folded on the bedside table and she put them on, glad the blinds were shut so the bright sun did not stream in too badly and ruin her vision. She wanted to puke. A cold shower was much desired.

Baby powder. That was the smell. No. Not baby powder. Talc, one of the primary ingredients in baby powder.

Warm hands divesting her of her two cardigans, pulling down her skirt and peeling off her soaked leggings. Her shoes neatly placed on the side of the room, a warm cloth rubbing down her body, cleaning the dust and dried sweat off of her.

Her arms and legs being moved like a doll, an accidental brush of warm flesh against her exposed breast as a man pulled the nightgown down over her. He finally found second base.

"Make love to me, Sheldon," she pleaded.

"You're drunk," Sheldon said and solemnly continued at his task. Was it just her or was his Southern drawl stronger than she remembered it being?

"Why don't you find me attractive?" She pouted, hurt at his rejection.

"I won't take advantage of you," he said resolutely.

"Don't you like what you see?" Amy whined. Didn't he want her? He saw her skin and came for her when she needed him. She wanted all of him all at once. She wanted him in and around her.

"The hero always peaks," he confirmed. That made her giggle. He was her hero. Her knight in shining armor. He came when she needed help.

"Make love to me, Sheldon," Amy repeated again and again, refusing to cooperate as Sheldon wrestled her into her nightgown.

He tucked her under the covers and for the first time in a while she felt warm, no longer stuck in her wet clothes. Sheldon was with her in her bed. No. That wasn't right. He was standing right next to her bed helping her.

Amy blushed furiously through her headache as the events of the night before came back to her.

"What have I done?" she said to herself, then flinched at the way her voice hurt her ears.

Now experienced at dealing with hangovers, she ate toast and drank plenty of water and felt herself slowly coming back to normal. It would be a while before she felt alright again.

Shame. She shamelessly called Sheldon and had him come rescue her. Embarrassment. Sheldon found her at her worst. He came for her at her worst and he was the one she wanted when she was at her most scared.

Was she wrong to break up with him? No. She would not allow herself to doubt on that score. She knew what she needed and Sheldon could never give that to her.

One thing was patently clear to her: Violet was a bad influence. It seemed the violet-haired woman had an amazing ability to overcome her better judgement and inspire her to behave recklessly.

She did not dive off cliffs into the ocean. She did not scramble wet up crumbling boulders. She did not go rappelling. She certainly did not get wasted at a party where she knew no one. And worst of all, she did not skip work without even calling in sick to do so.

It was not her.

Forget Penny and Bernadette luring her of the path of the ambitious and successful. Violet, Molly, and Sarah, but especially Violet, achieved that to an even greater degree. She stripped down to her underwear in front of them. For all her talk about her anatomy, even Penny had never seen her adorned in such little clothing. Only Sheldon when he bathed her while sick. Only Sheldon when he changed her out of her wet clothes into her warm and dry pajamas to prevent her from taking a chill. They were broken up. She had no right to call him when she was desperate. Anyone, Raj, Howard, Leonard, Penny, Bernadette, even Stuart, would have come to rescue her had she called. She could have called her parents or Cecile. Hell, she could have called Cathy or any number of people that she knew. She could have gotten an Uber. Instead, she called Sheldon when he was the very last person she should be calling.

Violet and her friends were a bad influence on her. She thought she understood the allure of the cool kids and decided to ignore her mother's warnings to stay away from all manners of sinful behavior. No smoking. No drinking. No drugs. She only tried one of the three, the drinking, and it made her feel cool. It made her part of a group.

She took another leap, and while this one was similarly not like her, there was a huge difference. Before, she was maturing. Now, she transformed into someone else. Someone who, when she stood in the mirror, she did not like at all. She was reckless and foolish. She placed her trust and her life on girls she did not know and who abandoned her.

And worst yet Sheldon was there to witness the worst of that behavior. Cliff diving in her underwear or skipping work to go rappelling was not cool. It was not brave or daring. It was pure stupidity.

She had an IQ of 185. She was supposed to be intelligent. No. Scratch that. She was more than just intelligent. She was genius. She was lucky to still be alive to call herself genius.

Last night should be a wake up call for her. She could not keep acting that way. She had to stay away from Violet at all costs, not let herself be dragged into that world again. She would only be burned, bubbly and spunky though she found the woman.

After skipping work the previous day, Amy reluctantly checked her email, the bright screen hurting her eyes. There was an email from her boss, asking why she was not in, as well as a few co-workers.

Though she felt miserable she readied herself for work and had an Uber come pick her up. She did not have the time or inclination to pick up her car and drive to work and, she suspected, she was in no fit state of mind to be driving anyhow.

Once she got to work, she realized there was one small detail she forgot: she could not effectively do science hungover.

She felt much better by lunch time and ate a hearty meal. With lots of water, she was almost back to herself. Then came the summons she knew were coming but did not want.

"Hello," she said to the head of the neurobiology department when she entered his office, feeling like a naughty child sent to the principal's office rather than a grown woman with a PhD and a career.

"You missed the meeting with the board yesterday, Amy," he said.

Amy thought back and then gasped. He was right. She had missed the meeting. It was not some small faculty or HR meeting either. No. It was with the board of directors, one of the sources of her funding. The entire neurobiology department was counting on her and what did she do? She failed to show up to the meeting.

Hell, the previous day she did not even remember she had it to being with.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized. How much money had her department lost out on because she was not there to plead their case? They must hate her. Her recklessness knew no bounds.

"Cathy presented to the board," he said, to which Amy let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again.

He held up his hand to prevent any further pointless apologies on her part.

"I don't know why you did not show up when you knew how important the meeting was. You had plenty of time to prepare. The rest of the department had to scramble because they tried to call and email you and you did not answer. You show up this morning hung over."

"I'm sorry," Amy repeated, a broken record.

"Consider this a warning, Dr Fowler." Amy hung her head, ashamed. She had not the security of tenure to behave in such an unprofessional manner, and even if she did, she wouldn't. It wasn't in her personality at all. She strove hard for her career and she loved it, and in the space of one day she could have very well blown hers, her departments, and her university's reputation, all offenses which were unthinkable.

"Be that as it may, Dr Cooper said you were helping him out yesterday. Is this true?"

Amy looked up and kept the surprise off her face. _Sheldon lied for her?_ Sheldon _lied? For her?_ What little intersection there was between theoretical physics and neurobiology she sought out Barry Kripke. Not Sheldon. Sheldon was incapable of lying. His tells were obvious and it was clearly a falsehood. He knew little of what was going on in her life other than her embarrassing stunt the night before.

"Yes," Amy said, going along with the lie because it made her seem just a little bit better.

President Siebert still looked disappointed but he accepted her answer for the truth it was not.

She said her goodbye with an added apology and went back to her lab. She would work all weekend if she had to to make up for her mistake.

She was prepared to stay the night if possible. Then she received an email notification. Drinks with Dave, the notification read and inwardly she cursed.

Her newfound frequency of memory loss was becoming alarming.

She had an Uber take her to the car, still in the parking lot at the Coffee shop and not towed away, luckily. She drove the rest of the way back to her apartment to get ready for her date.

By the time she got to the bar, she was running fifteen minutes late.

She found Dave in a booth and sat down across from him. "I was beginning to think you stood me up," he said in greeting.

"I'm really sorry I'm late," she apologized, "I was stuck late at work and I forgot to text you."

Dave waved off her apology and when the waiter came to take their drink order Amy, recalling in less than vivid detail the night before, ordered a Shirley Temple. Drinking was the last thing she needed. Dave got a beer, a treat she would not begrudge but felt she should not consume herself.

Clearly she was not to be trusted around alcohol or girls with violet streaks in their ebony hair.

"Tell me about your work?" Dave asked and she did. She explained the details of her research, and rather than zoning out as Alex did, Dave asked her question after question.

It was not his field of study but there was no mistaking the interest he held in her words. He looked straight into her eyes and she found herself blushing a little and looking down at the table.

His accent was sexy as hell. Then again, what British accent wasn't sexy?

From the depth of his questions Amy perceived an intelligence there. Not everyone would be able to understand her but Dave did. Previously she had worried he would take no interest in her work at all, giving her just cause to stop seeing him.

Instead, he displayed an interest greater even than Bernadette's. She liked having the attention on her for once and not someone else, but after speaking only of herself for long enough, she decided she should reciprocate.

She asked him about his hobbies. He liked physics and made no mention of comic books or science fiction. That she could easily live with. He liked beer and chocolate and reading. He adored Shakespeare and Hemingway, the later not her favorite by a long shot, preferring medieval literature herself, but she could hold a conversation with him about it.

He, in turn, read and liked Chaucer and she could forgive his professed distaste for Tolstoy. When it came to books, they appeared well suited.

There was none of the passion and exhilaration of the day before, and in retrospect, that was a good thing. Her instincts were not good enough to be trusted, having let her down abysmally.

For a brief three hours, Amy was able to forget about her mistake, to forget about the danger she knowingly put herself into. There was someone next to her who would not judge. Someone who was capable of acceptance. She needed that.

Dave settled their tab when she mentioned she should be going home. She would be early to work and stay late the next day, she resolved, to start making up for lost time. Her career and reputation were at stake. Or she felt they were.

He kissed her. She was not expecting a kiss so soon. His lips did not taste of talc and brownies like Sheldon's, and nor were they salty like Violet's. Was tasteless the correct word? It seemed dull but there was no other way to describe it. She could taste the bitterness of his beer and beyond that there were the undertones of berries and cinnamon, an interesting mix.

"I'm sorry," Dave said when he pulled back, "It's too soon isn't it."

Truth be told she had almost no experience with dating. She could count on one hand the number of people she'd been on dates with: Stuart, Sheldon, Dave, and Alex. Four total. She had no idea when kissing was expected in a normal relationship.

What she did know was that she liked it.

"No. It's fine," she said. Dave looked a bit taken aback, and Amy briefly wondered if she should have used a more enthusiastic word than fine. She herself would not like her kissing to be described as only fine.

"It was good," she amended and saw a confident expression take over Dave's face. There. Crisis averted. She was capable of being a good date. She just needed to learn how to date again now she was no longer in a relationship.


	18. Chapter 18

As promised to herself, she was at work a full two hours early, consequently well underway into her work before the second person arrived. She might not be able to make up entirely for her mistake, but she would try. She would redeem her reputation.

Cathy swung by her lab later that morning. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Amy didn't want to go into the whole of it with her coworker, and yet she needed someone to talk to. Too embarrassed to go to Penny and Bernadette, Cathy already knew of her absence the previous day. "We were worried when you didn't show up and we couldn't contact you," Cathy continued.

"Yes, um, I'm alright." Amy blinked a few times to center herself. "Something personal came up. I'm really, really sorry I didn't show. I heard you did the presentation."

"Yes, well, I hope you're feeling better." Cathy wasn't angry with her but nor was she open. What could Amy expect?

"Anyways, that wasn't why I came by." Her real reason for showing up was not to check up on Amy or to account for her whereabouts, as Amy expected, but to confirm the time for Amy's blind date. Now in Cathy's debt, Amy couldn't back out if she wanted to. She owed it to her coworker, odd though the method of repayment might be.

That was how Amy found herself standing next to Brian. He was, as Cathy claimed, very attractive. After awkwardly introducing themselves, they waited for Cathy and her boyfriend to show up.

If Cathy decided to pull another stunt on her by not showing up, forcing her into a second blind date, she would honest to goodness kill her coworker, consequences be damned.

"Hi Amy! Brian!" Cathy yelled from behind Amy.

Amy turned around to see Cathy and her boyfriend showed up after all, even if they were fifteen minutes late.

"A bit late, but don't worry about it. You're here now," Brain told Cathy. She then proceeded to introduce them both to her boyfriend.

He held out his hand for Amy to shake. Let the awkwardness begin.

Once they were all at the restaurant they were seated.

"So Cathy tells me you're an engineer," Amy said.

"Electrical engineer. And you're a neurobiologist."

"That's correct."

She went into some details about her work, nothing too deep. "You have a confocal microscope?" Brian interrupted her midway through her explanation.

"The department does, yes."

"Wicked." Turning to Cathy, Brian said, "I can't believe you didn't tell me. I'd love to get a look at one."

"Maybe I can show it to you sometime," Amy offered.

She spoke without thinking, a rarity for her though it was turning into a trend she did not like. What if he didn't like her? She liked him well enough, but if he construed it as an invitation to a second date, and refused because he didn't like her, she wasn't sure she could handle the humiliation. Not when it was witnessed by her coworker.

"I'd like that," Brian said. He did not have to contemplate his acceptance.

"It's a date," Amy confirmed. She took a sip of wine the disguise the blush suffusing through her cheeks. She really needed to get a handle on her words.

She then asked Brian a few questions about his work. Her line of questioning did not last long, however, as it became apparent Cathy's partner was growing bored with the conversation.

"You like yoga," Amy changed the subject and it was the only other thing she knew about Brian.

"Yes. I find it very relaxing. Do you?"

"I've never done yoga before," Amy admitted. While she disliked exercising, her course of study meant she knew the health benefits and forced herself to anyways. "Though I have read there are significant health benefits." While not the most vigorous form of exercise, it still stretched out the body and could be useful in increasing muscle tone and helping prevent other athletic activities, to say nothing of the mental benefits. That evidence, however, was not yet compelling and she would not bring it into the conversation.

"I do it for the relaxation," Brian said. "Stressful job. Yoga helps."

"I play the harp," Amy volunteered.

Invested as she was in the conversation, she barely noticed Cathy and her boyfriend whispering to each other and the satisfied smirk that graced her colleague's face.

Before they parted ways for the evening, Amy and Brian settled on a date for him to come by Caltech and she would give him a tour. They even hugged, though Amy was relieved he did not simultaneously go in for a kiss. It would be too weird after only a first date.

If Cathy was smug the following days, Amy did not acknowledge it. Nor did she thank Cathy for the much better do-over. It wouldn't have been necessary had she not messed up in the first place. They were only colleagues. Not friends. If they seemed friendly, then that was because they spent some time together at work and their projects and areas of study frequently had them collaborating.

The second date went as smoothly as the first. Brian was interested in the lab equipment, asking her a barrage of questions about the technical specifications of the equipment. Amy answered as best she could, though her answers did not fully satisfy Brian's curiosity. Of the biological side of her work, he held little interest, though he feigned it well.

She supposed that were he to give her that thorough a rundown of his own work, she might not enjoy it either.

Although it went smoothly, and ended up with them going out to dinner again, by the time dinner arrived Amy realized that there was just no spark.

She could easily imagine becoming friends with him but any more than that was out of the question. He paid for her dinner again, and she thanked him, unsure what she should say after. She liked him. She really did. She did not want to hurt him, yet there could be no relationship between them.

As they headed out, Brian turned to her.

"Amy, I really enjoyed today," he said.

"I did too," she agreed.

"And I think you're interesting, but, well, there's nothing here."

Boy did she know it. "I agree," Amy concurred.

Even though it was her intention to say something similar to him, why did it hurt to hear it in return.

"No hard feelings," Brian said.

"No hard feelings," Amy confirmed. One final hug goodbye and that was that.

* * *

AN: So many wonderful reviews I just had to get another chapter posted!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Some dialogue comes from 9x06.

* * *

Amy worked late again, choosing to go straight to Bernadette's house for girls night rather than swing by her apartment and change first. Such was the life of a woman with a reputation at risk.

To her disappointment, Stuart was there. Penny and Bernadette had no intentions of going out and Amy felt bitter at being lied to once again.

The talked to her about a dating app. She did not need a dating app to get dates. They had Stuart use her phone to sign her up. Girls night turned into a meeting of friends when Raj and Howard entered.

Amy tensed at their entrance. How much of her night of shame did Leonard and Sheldon tell the rest of the gang about? Had Penny known, everyone would would know, so Leonard kept quiet in front of his wife. Similarly, had the guys told Howard, Howard would tell Bernadette and Bernadette would tell Penny. Stuart was not a part of the connected set contained the nodes of gossip transmission, which left Raj as the only unknown. His enthusiasm to choose Amy's parter rather than ask uncomfortable questions let her know that he did not know either.

She could maintain some semblance of dignity in front of her friends then.

For whatever reason, Sheldon and Leonard kept the events of two nights previously a secret, something for which Amy was tremendously grateful. She would thank them later. Well, she would thank Leonard. She was not sure whether it was such a great idea to face Sheldon again or not. She could not see him again without feeling shame at the way he found her.

She asked for her phone back. They connected it to the tv instead, all the better to see and judge her life by. She felt uncomfortable with the turn of events, and the discomfort turned into guilt at the way her friends mocked and scorned the men.

It felt mean, especially knowing that many times she and the guys had been on the receiving end, only they were around to hear the derision. Turning it into a drinking game, courtesy of Penny, only made matters worse.

 _I had a great time with you_. Dave texted her.

Crap crap crap. There was a reason she sat uncomfortably apart from her friends rather than tell them no I can find a date on my own, thank you very much. In fact I have been on dates of my own and I didn't need an app to get them.

"Are you seeing someone?" Penny exclaimed.

"It's not like that," she hedged. There was no formal understanding between her and . . . whatever was going on with her and Dave. They met at a bookstore and hit it off. They had a lot to talk about over coffee. Texting him was fun. He was tall and skinny and British. After work drinks was relaxing. He understood and appreciated her work. There was little passion between them but he was nice enough and his kiss was, if not intoxicating, something she would not be adverse to experiencing again.

"And I'd love to take you out again," Bernadette read from her phone.

She really needed to change the passcode on her phone. Had she done that earlier, this entire fiasco would not be happening.

"Okay. It's like that," she reluctantly agreed.

"I can't believe you're seeing someone and we don't even know about it," Penny said.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't you tell us?"

 _Because of the way you're acting right now. You're immature and petty._ She thought sourly but kept her thoughts to herself. _Because I'm not sure if I'm ready to date and I really don't want anyone else to know._ And most importantly _Because I really screwed up and I don't want any of you to know about it._

"Because it's new and weird and I'm just trying to figure it all out and I knew if I told you guys I'd been out with a few people you'd get way too excited about it."

"A few?" Amy tried not to be offended at Stuart's disbelief. She was hardly undesirable and did not appreciate his insinuation.

She felt offended at the chorus of excited disbelief and this coming from her friends. At least they cared about her in their own ways.

"So are we allowed to ask how it's going."

Jealously. That made so much more sense coming from Stuart.

"It's going fine. It's mostly just been meeting people for coffee and dinner." More bars and restaurants than coffee shops. However, she did not want to admit to going to a bar and she really did not want to steer the conversation that would in any way lead to her inadvertently saying something about Violet, Sarah, or Molly. A simple, believable lie was the best. She wasn't good at lying if directly questioned. The best she could hope to get away with was a lie of omission, and staying away from dangerous topics was the best way to go about that.

"Whaaa?" Raj said. He was annoying and sometimes she wished he was back to having his selective mutism.

"I thought you weren't ready to start seeing people," Bernadette said.

She explained her reasons for dating: she did not have much experience and thought it would be good to get her feet wet. She was pleasantly surprised at Penny's support, and she did not miss Stuart's disappointment that she'd been out with three people.

Thankfully, telling them she'd been out on dates was enough to get them to give her her phone back. She deactivated her profile on the dating app and deleted it. She did not need anything else that could potentially screw up her life. She wanted to be plain, safe Amy Farrah Fowler.

She made a mistake but she knew what it was she wanted in life.

For the moment, seeing Dave again seemed like a step in the right direction, so while her friends began speculation about what her mystery paramours would be like, she quickly set up another date with Dave.

Time to return back to her normal life. If only it was so easy to forget her shame.


	20. Chapter 20

She was glad she had a date set up with Dave, no small amount of her satisfaction coming from a phone call she received from Sheldon earlier in the day. Did she want to watch him interview for a Spock documentary? No thank you very much. She did not like _Star Trek_ and she did not want to see Sheldon again. She was trying to move on with her life and she was beginning to think she could finally get there.

The dress she chose for her date with Dave was scandalous by her standards and downright frigid for Penny's. She choose a black, floral print dress with a purple three-quarter length jacket. A bit more close fitting than her normal want but she was trying to entice the man she was meeting up with. She had little experience like Penny did, but her study of the blonde woman's wardrobe over the years gave her some pointers as to how to attract a man. Knowing that Dave was much taller than her, she even wore heels, now a champion of balance after Penny's lessons.

Always ready early, Amy sat at her couch waiting for him to text her of his arrival. This time he was going to pick her up from her apartment and take her out on a date. Only once before had a man come to her door to take her out on a date rather than the other way around and she was content to enjoy the typical gender roles just the once.

Promptly at 6:30, she received a text and hurried downstairs to meet Dave. They awkwardly greeted each other but once they were settled into the car, she relaxed. It was only a small degree of relaxation; thoughts about whether Dave liked her or not whirled through her head on repeat. Sure he liked her enough to go out on their third date now, but what if he was still uncertain? She knew she was. Maybe this night would give her the information she needed to decide whether or not she was going to see him again.

Their reservation was ready right when they got to the restaurant, and Amy perused the menu. She did a double take when she saw the prices of the meals, resolving that she would find one of the cheaper options on the already expensive menu. However, she disguised her shock at the prices and instead asked Dave about his day.

He gave a polite, somewhat stilted answer. It was fine. His classes were fine. His students were students: all of them, even the most studious, competed to find out who could do the best impression of an open mouthed sea bass as no one cared about the lecture.

Dave asked about her day. Her article was accepted for publication in _Nature_ pending a few changes she would have to make. He congratulated her on the achievement and she blushed. The blush was slight, and a large part of her wondered how she managed to obtain her goal at all with the amount of time she spent distracted of late.

When it came to the open ended tell me about yourself portion of the date, she was unsure what to say. He already knew she liked medieval literature and played the harp. He knew a bit about her job. Other than her parents there was little to tell, and Amy suspected a third date was not the time to discuss her strained relationship with her mother.

She asked Dave about himself. He was an only child, his father deceased and his mother still lived in England. He had an ex-wife who cheated on him with a French pastry chef for the majority of their marriage before she left him.

Amy could not personally sympathize but she understood a part of him must be hurting. Inwardly, she began analyzing the changes his ex-wife's betrayal may have caused. Certainly she would expect him to be more reluctant to enter into another relationship with the scars from the first still fresh in his mind. However, he did not seem to resent all women and was a perfect gentleman towards her.

It was a nice evening. Nice being the operative word. There was no instant connection and no seamless merging of the minds as she felt before. Yet clearly her past relationship failed spectacularly, so perhaps nice was better. Perhaps nice was stable. Nice could still mean marriage and children, and with her age, if she wanted to have healthy children she needed to get started on it soon as her fertility declined and the risks became larger. Were she younger she could afford to be more choosy but there was nothing wrong was nice. Nice was something they could build a relationship on, if they both should choose to do so. If not, it would be no big loss other than the time wasted.

He read comic books but was not a huge fan. He liked science fiction and fantasy well enough but he was not a diehard. In fact, he seemed passionate about very little, choosing instead to take a muted interest in everything.

Then again, he was British, and as she knew with her father, he might very well feel more passionately about the topics they discussed once they became better acquainted with each other.

As a self professed atheist, Dave agreed that he was one as well. Religious barriers out of the way, their discussion turned towards politics. Just a little left of center, he was even more so, and while she might not agree with the extent of his ideals, they shared that in common as well. The important topics accounted for, there was little else to do but enjoy their meal and see where it led.

When he drove her back to her apartment, Amy was unsure of the protocol. Should she invite him up to her apartment for a nightcap? Her study of social interactions led her to believe that would be construed as an invitation for intercourse. She was not ready for that yet. She did not want the night to be over that early, and yet she saw no other choice. Did she invite him up to play a board game? It was too late at night to start something time consuming and that might be similarly received to a nightcap.

Never before had she felt her lack of dating experience more acutely. In the end she said nothing, allowing him to walk her to the outer door of her apartment building.

Even standing a step higher than him and in her heels he was still taller than her. Thought it was dark outside, Amy could admit that his face was, if not classically handsome, comely. His glasses leant him an air of distinction and coupled with his accent, he was not unattractive. Her mother would tell her she was an ugly child and should be happy any man showed an interest in her, ironic considering her mother's formerly professed beliefs that she should stay away from men entirely.

She said goodbye and he repeated the gesture. Should she hug him? Was that an appropriate way to end the date? She looked up at his face, trying to find some clue as to how she should behave when all the while she felt her palms becoming clammy. None of these uncertainties and bodily betrayals plagued her with her first boyfriend because they were friends long before they were boyfriend/girlfriend. Not so with Dave. She barely knew him. He barely knew her. There was no foundation of friendship on which she could base their interactions, no familiarity with the other to make the goodbye less awkward.

He lent down to kiss her, a brief brush of his lips against hers. They were warm and caused a slight tingle, though whether it was an automatic reaction from her more sensitive lips or a sign of attraction she could not be sure. The phenomenon would require further study by way of future kisses, should it become necessary. She took a swab of her saliva to analyze for hormone concentrations the following day.

She did not walk on metaphorical clouds as she made her way to her apartment, but a part of her was more relaxed than it was before the date. Rather than prepare for bed as she knew she should, she sat down on the couch, not reading or watching tv or occupying her mind with thoughts of a philosophical bent but she recalled every interaction with Dave that evening.

Not every interaction, but every one that was burnt onto her mind. She played them on repeat: the way he leaned towards her when she spoke; his scent, not unpleasant, but different and masculine; his ever present smile which led her to wonder if his constant optimism would become grating after a time; his warm lips on hers. Round and round her mind went. In every way they should be compatible. Both crossed in love previously, they wanted someone else. Someone stable and comforting. Yes, her mind was made up. She wanted to schedule another date with him.

When she heard a knocking at her door not much later, she opened it without checking to see who it was, assuming it would be Dave back, she was surprised to find Sheldon. His posture was casual and he wore the jacket he was wearing when they first met, one of the few jackets he owned, and his hands were clenched in his jacket pocket.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He asked to come in, and before she could summon the presence of mind to say no, she said yes and stepped aside to let him in.

"You were kissing someone," Sheldon accused her.

"It's not your business if I was, but yes," she agreed, just wanting to get rid of him. "Now, if that's all, please leave."

Sheldon blinked down at her, his expression hurt. It was almost as if he were hoping for denial, some rational that he was wrong. "I see. I won't take up any more of your time."

Without even a goodbye he saw himself out of the apartment, his hands clenched in his jacket pocket the entire time.

 _That was strange even for him,_ Amy thought but resolved to think on it no longer. Her path in life no longer factored in Sheldon. It was time for her to accept that fact and move on as she knew she should.

She said goodbye even though the door was already closed behind him, and she bolted it to prevent any further intrusions. She had a lot to think about and a lot to evaluate.

Not only that, she had a lot of lost time to make up for.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Some dialog from 9x08.

* * *

She and Dave made plans to meet up in a week. It was going to be their fourth date. Nevertheless, now her friends knew she was dating she asked for their help coming up with what to wear.

She found another black dress with a floral pattern, but at Penny's encouragement, did not put on tights or leggings underneath, leaving the bare skin of her calves exposed. As she walked out of Penny's room, she felt uncomfortable.

She knew it was ridiculous to feel that way in front of her two closest friends. She allowed three virtual strangers to see her in only her underwear and was fine with that, but now she was on display, she felt more naked than she had then. It was not rational, yet as she knew well sentiments rarely were.

She pulled off the two inch high nude heels, asking for a taller pair because of Dave's height. She knew she made a mistake the moment her slip prompted Penny and Bernadette to probe for more details. Without meaning to she told them about the peck on the lips, nothing special as far as her more scandalous friends were concerned, yet something that weighed heavily on her mind. She did not voice any of her thoughts on the matter, however.

In pieces they pried more information out of her: her date was British, which in retrospect she did admit was a juicy detail, and they were going to a new Italian place.

Searching Penny's closet for more heels, she found that as the blond said, there was nothing taller for her to wear. Resigning herself to the short beige ones, she fixed her makeup and was ready to go.

As she looked in the mirror, she was forced to admit she looked good. Not stunning, and if she lacked Penny's beauty, she preferred being brainy and intelligent herself.

The start of their date was fun. The conversation was light and now having met up with him a couple of times, she felt herself starting to relax. She asked more about his ex-wife. If they were to continue seeing each other, it was time they talked about their former relationships.

Embarrassed she admitted she was only ever in one long term relationship. When he asked what happened, she took a sip of wine to fortify herself, a habit she picked up from Penny.

Amy told him it was more work than it should have been after five years. When Dave asked if he was a neurobiologist as well, it took all of Amy's efforts not to scoff as Sheldon would have had be been so insulted at being called, even indirectly, a neurobiologist.

She told Dave her ex boyfriend was a theoretical phycisit. How did she manage to meet a man who shared the exact same interests as Sheldon? Hell, he even said theoretical physics would have been his dream job but he settled for teaching maths. Amy tried to steer the conversation away from Sheldon and back to him.

In hindsight, she should not have revealed Sheldon's name, but hindsight is 20/20.

"Wait, you're not talking about Dr Sheldon Cooper?"

"I'm trying not to." Couldn't Dave tell she wanted to change the topic away from the uncomfortable subject of her ex boyfriend? Politeness took over. "Do you know him?"

"No, but I followed his work for years. He's a star. You've got to tell me about him. What's he like?" Dave enthused. He clasped his hands together and leaned forwards eagerly, appearing more interested than she ever saw him before. So that was what it took to breach his distant British exterior.

She told him a little about Sheldon as requested, constantly trying to figure out a way to steer the conversation towards any other subject but failing. The waitress came and took their order, and still he asked questions about Sheldon. The waitress delivered their food and they began eating and still he spoke about Sheldon.

Her boredom should be more than apparent to him, and yet if Dave picked up on it his excitement overrode his better judgement, or at least his sense, for he continued his seemingly endless barrage of questions.

"I'm sorry," Dave apologized, "Just one more question about Sheldon."

One question answered at least: he knew she was uncomfortable and disinclined to talk about Sheldon further. He simply chose to continue the conversation in its current vein.

"Sure. Why not?" she said unenthusiastically. It was not like it would be the first or the second or even the fourteenth question she answered about him.

"It's more of a four part question really." Amy did not even try to stop her eye roll. If he was obtuse enough to interrogate her about her ex boyfriend, she could dish out a bit of rudeness herself. "When he wrote his paper on super singular prime numbers, how long did it take?

"About an hour and a half," Amy said. She remembered Sheldon writing that paper. While not in the zone per say, he was attentively focused. When Dave seemed impressed by the short duration it took for Sheldon's mind to work to make connections most people would fail to ever see, Amy recalled that particular date.

They were eating takeout at 4A, he at his computer and she sitting in her spot at the couch. It would be too much to ask for him to hold her hand or kiss her or even say a word to her that wasn't a derivative restatement of what he was working on. She even missed his babble about comic books. At least then he would be talking to her. Instead she was largely ignored, a contractual obligation he had to put up with and then arranged date night to make it only a minor annoyance to himself. That his actions might hurt her did not even cross his mind, yet hurt her they did. After a few attempts to draw his attention back to herself, she was ready to give up.

It was how she often felt in their relationship. Ready to give up and call it quits because the truth was her needs were rapidly changing and Sheldon could no longer satisfy them. She loved him but she was not happy. Love had the ability to induce euphoria but as no one ever told her before, it also had the ability to cut more deeply than she imagined.

Amy told Dave Sheldon wrote the paper on a date very much like their current one, meaning she was bored and just wanted to get away while he was fascinated. Then he could be faceless for all the difference there was between Dave and Sheldon.

Just wanting to get the date out of the way, she asked for the rest of his question.

Dave wanted her to introduce Sheldon to him. Her mind recoiled. No. No. No. That she certainly would not do. She needed distance from Sheldon, not to be closer to him.

"Really? You want me to introduce you to my ex boyfriend." She could not believe what she was hearing.

Dave seemed indecisive. Unlike said ex boyfriend he had the ability to recognize his request was odd and the reason for it yet his sense warred with his excitement and it appeared excitement won out.

Despite the fact that he only wanted to ask one last question, it was not the last she heard of Sheldon. Bringing up his name that first time opened up the can of worms so to speak.

When she mentioned she got her degree at Harvard, Dave said, "You know I once drove 500 miles to Harvard to hear him speak."

Amy informed him that she had a DVD of that particular lecture and that no, it was not a good Valentines present. It was too much to ask for something romantic from Sheldon apparently. Self-centered and unaware of her feelings. And here Dave was dishing out more of that.

Where had her judgement gone so awry? She thought him a good and interesting person, and now he seemed to be doing his best to prove her wrong.

"I'm the bloke who asked the question that he said was stupid and obvious. It was the nicest thing he said to anyone there."

Amy believed it to be true. Sheldon had an amazing ability to be condescending around his equals, and even more so around those people who he considered inferior to himself which, with a few exceptions, was the majority of the human population.

"That's terrific," she said sarcastically, now exhausted for having to converse about Sheldon all evening, "Listen, I'm tired. Can we call it a night?" Their desert was already cleared and the bill paid. There was no reason to stay any longer and unlike their last date, she did not want to prolong it by a single second.

Dave finally seemed to realize just how lethargic she was but it was too late to salvage their evening. Even so, he still asked again to be introduced. Rather than say no again, she ignored it. The problem would go away because the answer to her earlier question was clear: she could say with certainty that she did not want to see or talk to Dave Gibbs again. He was perfectly nice but insensitive. She had enough of that in her previous relationship as it soured. She would not go into another to be treated the exact same way.

When they exited the restaurant, a car rammed into Dave's from in front. Amy watched with unmitigated horror as first Bernadette then Penny jumped out of Bernadette's car. Her jaw dropped open. They were supposed to be her friends and yet their presence and judging by the crash their attempt at a quick getaway confirmed they were spying on her.

More precisely, they were spying on her date. Leonard appeared from behind the bushes and Amy half expected the rest of the gang to manifest as well, uncertain how she should react to everyone spying on her.

Bernadette and Dave exchanged insurance information and uncertain whether Dave's car would drive or not, Amy offered to drive him him, glad she met him at the restaurant that time.

The car ride to Dave's place was stiff and awkward. He had a good time. How ironic, considering that it was miserable for her. Perhaps that was being harsh, but at least on dates with her ex boyfriend she felt a lot more for him, making up for the often times lacking conversation.

He asked to see her again, and she made certain he knew she did not wish to see him again. She could have been noncommittal and refused to make further plans but she was nothing if not blunt. He made a mistake talking about nothing other than Sheldon for their entire date, and then again the car ride home.

Tired from the night, she made her way back to her apartment. She pulled off her shoes and sat on the couch, staring into space as before. This time her thoughts were less agreeably occupied. She misjudged him. That was a certain. Dave. Bernadette, Penny, and Leonard though she already knew them to be nosey.

Had she misjudged Sheldon as well? No. She refused to accept that. What happened happened and there was nothing to be done about it.

Love hurt. Dating sucked. She wondered when it would get better.


	22. Chapter 22

"We haven't seen you since Flora's wedding. That was two years ago." Trust her mother to being a phone conversation without as much as a hello. Then again, she was the one who answered when caller ID showed it was her mother. Though what was she supposed to do? Ignore her mother. Mrs Fowler would just keep calling until she finally answered and then scold her for being rude.

"I've been busy," she hedged.

Amy heard her mom's humph disbelief over the phone.

"Yes, well, now you're broken up you can't be busy anymore. I want you to come for dinner on Saturday."

And there it was. The reason Mrs Fowler called her. She and her mother had a strained relationship and the occasions they did speak they almost always fought. She knew her mother had only the best of intentions but at the same time she could not forgive her the upbringing that resulted in her being a loner until well after she completed graduate school.

Dinner at her parent's house was a less than appealing prospect. If pressed, there were few things Amy wanted to do less then she wanted to have dinner with her parents.

"I'm busy Saturday," she lied.

"Girls without boyfriends don't have plans on Saturday. I know you're not busy and you will be there. It's been too long since I saw you."

Amy bristled at the first part. Hinting at her breakup when it was recent was below the belt, but to claim she had nothing else to do but wait hand and foot on a nonexistent boyfriend was a low blow, even for Mrs Fowler.

"I have friends, mother. Sometimes we go out," Amy said.

"Yes. And I'm sure your friends will be glad to have extra time with their _husbands_."

Her mother stressed the last word and Amy heard it for the insult it was. Penny and Bernadette were married. Why wasn't she? Why didn't she do more to entice her boyfriend to marry her? After all, they were in a relationship for a long time and she should want to be happy. Ironic, of course, coming from the same mother who actively discouraged her from having friends or dating to preserve her still existent hymen.

For a woman who supported her decision to pursue a career in the sciences, albeit reluctantly and without understanding what Amy did, Mrs Fowler could be rather backwards at times. There was more to life than finding a husband, yet her mother did not understand that. Yes having a relationship was important to her now in a way it was not before, but that still did not give her mother the right to look down on her.

"Yes, well, it's girls night," Amy said, also a lie. She had no plans and knew Penny and Bernadette likely had plans with Leonard and Howard already.

"Then tell your friends that you have to cancel because you will be having dinner with your parents."

"But—"

"No buts. Saturday at 7:00. Don't be late."

"Yes, mom," Amy reluctantly agreed, resigning herself to an evening of painful dinner conversation. At least it would satisfy her obligatory meeting with them for quite some time; another two years if she was lucky; longer if she could manage.

After hanging up with her mother, Amy called Penny to complain about the upcoming visit. Penny, rather than sympathizing with her, rather expressed her glee. To think that was how deep their friendship was.

Saturday at exactly 7:00 Amy rang the doorbell to her parent's house. She refused to invite herself in. She had not lived there in years and while it was her childhood home, she was not about to just walk in. No. She preferred the detached formality of waiting at the door like any other, non-related guest.

"Exactly on time. Come in. Dinner's almost ready," Mrs Fowler ushered her inside.

"Hello to you too," she said sarcastically, encouraging a laugh from her dad.

"Hi dad," she said.

"Hello Amy. It's been awhile," he said, exactly as her mother did over the phone.

She turned to see someone she did not recognize. "Who's this?" she asked her parents.

He was male, somewhere in his mid to late thirties, with a large nose and a large, scraggly beard. Amy disliked beards on men, particularly such large, ungroomed ones that were more likely than not to contain bits of leftover food and a whole other host of bacteria. He was on the larger side, an overall unattractive man if she did say so herself, but the worst part of all was the distinctive smell of pickles that seemed to radiate off his body.

Amy concentrated all her effort on breathing normally and not scrunching up her nose at the stench.

"Amy, this is Barry."

"Hello, Barry," she said. Turning back to her mother, she said, "When's dinner?"

She wanted to get the whole night over with. Ignoring her question, Mrs Fowler instead said, "Barry is the son of a friend of mine from church. He recently broke up with his girlfriend you know."

Her sudden thought of _oh hell no,_ and her desire to exclaim her disbelief that he even had a girlfriend at some point warred with each other but neither won out as her mother continued speaking without thought for the comfort of either of her guests. "He's between jobs at the moment but I'm sure he'll find something soon. He's very smart, just like you. Maybe you could find a job for him at her university."

 _Be civil. Be civil. Be civil._ Amy repeated over in her head. She thought from the ambush and her mother's initial introduction Barry was invited over as some sort of blind date but now she was not so sure. Her mother wanted her to find a job for the man at her university.

"What did you study, Barry?" she asked, keeping any dislike at bay. The man had, as of yet, done nothing to incur her rather other than to have the bad sense to accept the dinner invitation her mother issued. If she were to dislike him for that, then by the same logic she must dislike herself as well for she, too, reluctantly accepted her mother's dinner invite.

"I'm gonna get my GED," Barry said proudly.

This time, Amy crinkled her nose in disgust, and if it helped with the smell still radiating off the man, much the better.

"See, he'll be perfect to help you on your brain research," Mrs Fowler said.

Then it clicked to Amy. Only part of Mrs Fowler's set up was to get the Barry guy a job. The larger portion was to get them together long enough for her to what, date the man? She would not go near him with a ten and a half foot pole were he the Grinch.

"Mother, employees at Caltech must have PhDs," Amy said levelly, glad the man was so grossly under qualified that she did not have to feel even the least bit inclined to help him get a job. The further away from her he was the better.

"Why not?" Mrs Fowler asked.

"Because the research we do is complicated. It requires a great deal of knowledge and, I can't stress this enough, a PhD."

"Pish posh," Mrs Fowler waved off Amy's concern. "Doesn't your friend . . . what's his name? The Jewish one. He doesn't have a PhD."

"His name is Howard," Amy corrected, "and no, he doesn't. But he's an engineer. It's different."

"Then find Barry an engineering job. I'm sure he can help you with your research either way."

Amy took a deep breath to keep herself from eviscerating her mother. Turning to Barry, she said, "Listen, I'm sure you're a great guy," _beneath the unattractive exterior and the revolting smell and the overall unintelligence_ she mentally added, "but Caltech is not the place for you." Turning back to her mother, she said, "Howard has a masters degree from MIT. Barry doesn't even have a high school degree."

"Oh, what's the difference?" Mrs Fowler asked.

Amy had to resist the urge then and there to storm out of the room. She knew her mother did not know or care about a lot of her work, but this was downright insulting to scientists everywhere. Had she believed in a deity, she would pray to it at that very moment to still her hands from killing her mother and Barry in one fell swoop.

"Honey, dinner is ready," Mr Fowler said, cutting the tension.

Amy was glad for her father at that moment, though she was still unhappy at having to endure the dinner at all. The retreated to the dining room. Her parents took their places at either heads of the table, leaving her and Barry to face each other. It was going to be a long meal.

Amy noted that while her father and Barry were served large portions, hers and her mother's portion was small enough she knew she would be eating a second dinner that evening. Oftentimes she was surprised she and her mother were related at all, though if the serving size on her plate was an indication of how much, or rather how little, her mother ate, it was no mystery why she was frail and gaunt looking.

While she was chewing a bite of her food, Barry took the opportunity to say, "Amy, I hear you just broke up with your boyfriend."

"Yes. Can you please pass the potatoes?" she said to her father, anything to get the conversation off of her personal life.

Her father handed her the platter and she served herself more, wishing they had butter or cream or anything in them to help get her caloric intake up. She needed more food yet her mother certainly was not going to serve her more of the chicken. She should watch their weight, her mother always told her.

"I'd say that's too bad, but it's lucky for me," Barry commented.

Amy leveled a piercing glare at her mother. "In what way?" she asked, her voice sickly sweet. The situation was even worse than she thought. First he was a revolting, unattractive, unintelligent man and then her mother had gone and given him hope, for she could not think of any other reason that could be the cause his presumption.

Rather than answer the question himself, Barry looked at her mother and Mrs Fowler did not disappoint.

"Don't be obtuse, Amy dear. I found you the perfect boyfriend."

"I'm not going to date him, mother, ever," Amy said, furious. To use dinner obligations as an excuse to set her up on a blind date with her parent's looking over was bad enough, but to call the man her boyfriend without consulting her at all on the matter?

It would be a wonder if she ever spoke to her mother again.

"Why not?" Mrs Fowler asked, "I know he's not the most . . . well, anyhow, with your looks—"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Amy asked dangerously. "What about my looks?"

"I love you very much, dear, but you're a very unattractive woman. Anyways, as I was saying, with your looks and brains you'll never find another man so I went to the trouble of procuring one for you."

"What do you mean with my looks and brains?" Amy questioned. She felt the insult heavily.

"Amy, we shouldn't be fighting in front of guests," Mrs Fowler said.

Amy shot a glare at her father, mad at him for not warning her in advance of the ambush, before turning her attention back to her mother.

"Does he even qualify as a guest? I'm sure you've already taken the liberty of writing up our wedding invitations," she snarked.

"It's a bit soon, dear, but I'm sure we could reserve the church, and if you keep the ceremony small we can have the reception in the backyard."

"I'm not going to marry him. I don't even like him."

Mrs Fowler waved her hand in the air to say it was no big deal. "Don't be absurd. People used to marry all the time without affection. What you need is to settle down and give me some grandchildren. I'm not getting any younger and I need someone to spoil in my old age. Please, dear, at least consider Barry. He can't do any better than you with your brain and looks."

Rather than appearing offended at the insult to himself, no matter how justly deserved, Barry burped. Loudly. Amy grimaced in distaste.

"Mother," Amy warned.

"Don't pretend you don't know. Men don't like smart women and they prefer them pretty. You're plain. No wonder Sheldon left you."

"For the last time, I broke up with him," Amy yelled, her voice now at full volume. Her mother had a miraculous ability to get on her nerves and to needle her endlessly, but that was the final straw.

"And I don't want to marry." _Lie._ She was not about to admit as much to her mother at that time. "And I don't want to have children." An even bigger lie, but it was better than agreeing with any part of her mother's statement.

"Don't be absurd, Amy. You'll be happier once you're married and have children."

How horribly sexist and to think they lived in a supposedly enlightened time.

"No, mother, I won't. I can have happiness independent of a husband and children, and should I ever decide that is what I want, I will make my choice without reference to you or anyone else."

Amy abruptly stood from the table, her chair screeching across the tile floor and clanging as it fell over.

"You make me come over here and insult my intelligence, my looks, and my future prospects because I don't conform to your ideal daughter. Guess what, mother? I don't need to. I've dated three men since breaking up with Sheldon"—the blind date who was an absolute bore, Cathy's apology date, and Dave who spent their last date talking exclusively of her ex boyfriend—"and a woman." Not exactly true. Violet wasn't a date, but they had made out and Amy figured that counted for something. Besides, if it was shock value she was going for with her very traditional mother, her bait worked.

"Amy!" Mrs Fowler gasped. "You're a lesbian." She said the word with such distaste Amy felt the urge, not for the first time in her life, to strike her mother. She clenched her fists at her sides as she remained standing, and briefly noted Barry was now watching her with interest. She shivered in disgust at his attention.

"No. I'm not. But I did strip down to my underwear and go cliff diving."

"Amy!"

"With a girl and then we made out. And I drank."

"Amy!" Mrs Fowler's volume increased with each iteration of her name.

Amy left of the second part of the story, the part where she saw and Violet went repelling and then to the disastrous party where she drank way more than she should have, resulting in calling Sheldon to come rescue her when she felt sick and on the verge of fainting and rendering her too embarrassed to even risk running into him. What must he think of her after that ordeal, and yet still he came to her rescue.

"And I didn't even know who she was!" Amy said, relishing in the shock value. No she was not her mother's obedient, goody two shoes daughter. She was capable of being rebellious the way she never was as a teenager.

"Amy!"

"And I skipped work to do it. Didn't even call in sick."

"Amy Farrah Fowler, you go to the sin closet right now. Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have gotten into. You could have died. Nudity. Alcohol. Lesbianism. Are you trying to get yourself sent to hell?" Right. because all of those crimes were equal to the other, at least in her mother's eyes, and to Amy, they were not crimes at all.

She had not thought her mother to be that intolerant yet she was.

"I won't," she argued back. A grown woman in her early thirties, she could leave the house consequence free if she very well pleased.

"I'm not going to argue with you anymore," Mrs Fowler said, standing up as well.

Though her mother was shorter and much frailer than her, Amy did not even try to resist as her mother grabbed onto her wrist and began dragging her towards the living room. She followed along meekly, the years of her childhood so ingrained she did not make a fuss even though she was an adult and her mother could do nothing to stop her leaving.

Amy did not resist as her mother pushed her into the closet and locked the door. She peered through the slats of the closet, looking at her mother's retreating form, and then she was alone in the almost darkness.

She collapsed down onto the floor. How she abhorred the woman she called her mother. She would never be good enough for Mrs Fowler, because no matter how successful she was, it would never matter. Her mother had strange ideas. She should never have come for dinner.

At least in the midst of their fight her mother forgot to strip her of her phone and she was left with something at least. Alone in the closet, she did not have to put up with Barry any longer, though that he had been invited over at all was bad enough.

Her relationship with her mother had been strained for a long time, but tonight was worse than it ever was before. Or, perhaps, she changed when she met her friends and she could never go back to the girl she was before, the socially awkward, affection starved woman who put up with her mother's shit. One thing was for certain: the moment she got out of the closet there would not be a single inducement in the entire world that would get her to visit her parents again.

She heard the sounds of her parents apologizing to Barry as they showed him out of the house and his obliviousness that he had even been insulted at all. Any listened to the click of her mother's heels retreating up the stairwell and the firmer thump of her father's footsteps nearing the closet.

The sudden influx of light was blinding as Mr Fowler freed her from the closet. She scrambled to her feet and out of the closet.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you out of there sooner," her father said.

Later, she would be happy he let her out against what was surely her mother's strict orders to leave her in there till morning, as she would have been were she a child again. At the moment, she was still revved up from the fight and willing to lay her claws into anyone stupid enough to show their vulnerable neck.

"You shouldn't have let her put me in there at all. Don't expect me back for dinner ever," she fumed.

"Amy, please take some time to calm down. Your mother didn't mean—"

"—Yes she did. She meant every. Single. Word." Amy enunciated each word clearly, her defiant expression now leveled at her father.

"I don't forgive you and I don't forgive her. I'll show up to events with the rest of the family but I'm never coming here again."

"Amy," her father tried to talk to her again but she pushed her way past him to the front door. She would not stay to be insulted any longer. Dinner was a nightmare, she was still starving, she was humiliated, and above all else she was furious.

She drove twenty miles over the speed limit, something she would never do normally, but she needed to put as much distance between herself and that house as possible.

She found herself at Los Robles rather than her own apartment in Glendale and she hastened up the stairs to find Penny in her apartment.

"What happened?" Penny asked when Amy knocked on her door and invited her in.

Amy took a huge gulp of wine from what was presumably Penny's glass as she was the only one there. One mouthful not enough, she drained the entire glass, before putting the bottle to her mouth.

"Woah, there, drink a bit slower," Penny said, pulling the now half empty bottle of wine away from her.

Amy blinked and felt the alcohol already going to her head. Blessed relief it was.

"I'm falling apart," Amy confessed.

"That bad with your mother?" Penny sympathized.

Amy told her about everything that happened that night, glad of Penny's support. When she came to the part about the cliff diving, she promised to tell Penny later in full. Her best friend was a great listener and with the assistance of another glass of wine, Amy kept spilling everything she kept pent up. Best friends did not keep secrets from each other anyways, and it was cathartic to talk.

Amy was not the least bit offended when she then recounted the story of how she met Violet, Sarah, and Molly in a bar, and then went cliff diving with them, and then the rappelling incident. Then she got to the part about the party.

Penny held her hand to her mouth. "That's where Sheldon insisted Leonard drive him and when Leonard got back he said Sheldon threatened him if he told anyone."

Amy would believe it. For someone who was terrible at keeping secrets Sheldon did manage to keep a few here and there. Though why Penny was not allowed to know of her shame she was not sure. When she sobered up again, she would no doubt be embarrassed for Penny knowing the full of her story, the truth of her humiliating dates and reckless behavior, and yet with the alcohol chorusing through her veins—she was finished with the entire bottle and just starting in on a second—she did not care.

The world could crash and burn around her and she would not care because for the first time in a while she felt vindicated.

She did not want Sheldon to see her as she was or remember her as he found her that night. The alcohol helped push her embarrassment away but it would return full force once her hangover the next morning was over.

"Wow, Amy," seemed to be Penny's only words. In the end, Amy pushed the bottle of wine away and curled up into a ball on the couch.

"I just want someone to love me," she repeated over and over again. Penny alternatively hushed her and rubbed her shoulders, all the while assuring her she would be fine. That someone would love her.

When Leonard tried to come in, he was promptly kicked out. Amy hoped he would not tell Sheldon about the condition she was currently in.

Penny let her stay the night. She didn't want to be alone. She raided the fridge for hangover food, finding a bit of stale bread but it was enough to soak up some of the residual effects, at least well enough for her to drive back to her apartment. It was a Sunday and she would not have to go in late to work again. So much for her plan to make up for missed time on the weekends. The day would be a wasted testament to her hangover and her poor decisions. She had naught but herself to blame.

* * *

AN: I apologize for the late update. I got a full tuition scholarship to my top choice of law school and went out to celebrate instead!


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Some dialog from 9x09.

* * *

Amy was surprised a couple of days later when she saw her dad's name show up on caller ID. Suspicious it might be her mother and prepared to hang up immediately if necessary, Amy answered the phone.

"Hello."

"Hi Amy. It's dad. I wanted to make sure you are alright."

"I'm alright," she said. Physically she was just fine. Mentally she needed more distance. The fiasco at her parent's house was just another event in a long line of misfortunes, all of which seemed geared towards harming any equilibrium she might briefly find.

They spoke for awhile. Mr Fowler apologized for his and her mother's behavior when she came over to dinner and promised it would never happen again. Amy did not believe him but she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Most of her issues were with her mother anyways.

"We're having the family over for Thanksgiving and your mother and I would be really happy if you could come?" Mr Fowler finally got to the point of the phone call.

Although she resolved she would never go to her parents's house again, it was made out of anger and her father apologized. Besides, if the rest of her family was going to be there she did not want her absence to create undue problems, and they would level out her mother's crazier antics.

"Who will be there?" Amy asked suspiciously, because if it was some trick to get her alone again, she wasn't going to fall for it.

"The whole family. Your aunts and uncles, Cecile and the children." How her father knew she had a soft spot for the last three he mentioned she did not know.

She was torn. She really didn't want to go anywhere near her mother again, and yet she did not want to disappoint Jenna and Mark. Those two children were the bright spots in her family, and Cecile at times, when her cousin was not getting on her nerves.

"Very well," she agreed. The phone conversation did not last for much longer.

Despite mending bridges with her father, no matter how tentatively, her life at work was looking up. She finally put up enough overtime in the lab to make up for her absence and was reaping the rewards accordingly. If her personal life was still in turmoil, her professional one was taking a definite turn for the better. There was some consolation in success no matter how little it mattered in comparison to loneliness.

It was hard for her to name the exact time or place where everything went wrong. It just had. She came to terms with it, and yet she was tired. She wanted to go on dates with new people once more yet she did not relish the inherent awkwardness of first dates or the seemingly inefficient manner of finding one's partner in life.

In retrospect, perhaps breaking it off with Sheldon had been a bad idea. Yes there were problems, ones that at the time she thought they could never overcome, yet how could it be any better with a virtual stranger? There would be no guarantee any future boyfriends would be any more compatible for her let alone have the same life goals.

When she saw an incoming Skype call from Sheldon, she answered it with much more enthusiasm than she should have and only a small bit of apprehension that he would bring up the night they last saw each other.

He offered her the tickets to the Aquarium buffet, and as he made clear they were for her and a guest of hers; she could hear the sadness in his voice. He wanted to go yet no one would go with him. In what was later obviously a lapse in judgement, she offered to go with him as friends. Yes, it would be awkward because they were going to eat a buffet Thanksgiving dinner at the aquarium but it would not be awkward between them. They were friends long before they were boyfriend and girlfriend and she was sure they could return to that stable, steady state.

A part of her wanted more yet she knew that to be impossible. She picked Sheldon up and forced herself to look straight out the windshield least she be caught admiring him. He was a handsome man, tall and slender with that air of intelligence and confidence about him that rendered him devilishly attractive.

He printed off a list of polite conversation topics. They covered the basics: no they did not get any pets since they last spoke; no neither one of them went on vacation recently; he led a riveting discussion on the weather, and on and on.

Finally sick of the uninspired questions, she said they were friends long enough they could have a normal conversation.

"What should we talk about?" Sheldon asked.

Anything and everything, Amy wanted to say. Just like old times when we could say anything to the other. That was no longer the case in their tentative new friendship.

"I don't know," she said, unable to fixate on one particular topic. "Ask me whatever comes to mind." _Shit_ , she thought, _wrong answer. Now he's going to ask me about that night and I can't tell him. I can't disappoint him_. If he asked, she could have to come up with some sort of answer. She was a smart woman and yet she made a decision to stupidly drink herself into a stupor at a party in an unknown location surrounded by complete strangers and a nearly dead cell phone battery. She could have been assaulted or worse, and yet one call from her and Sheldon immediately came to play the knight in shining armor even though he was under no obligation. If he asked about that night, she would owe him an explanation she did not one to give, if she even understood it herself.

"Very well. When you called me the other night—"

"—I don't want to talk about it," Amy abruptly cut him off. Revise that thought. She might owe him an explanation if he wanted one but she absolutely could not talk about it. It was too humiliating even for her, someone very forthright in all her daily actions.

"Why?" Sheldon pressed.

Even with only her peripheral vision she could see the sad curiosity and knew she could not deny him the answer he wanted.

"I don't really know. I was scared and I wasn't thinking straight. I'm embarrassed by what you must think of me." _And my first instinct was to call you because I missed you and wanted you more than anyone else._ Only she couldn't say that last part aloud. That territory was too dangerous for their blossoming friendship.

"Why did you go?" Sheldon specified.

Amy bit her lip and her hands clenched the steering wheel tightly. "I was out of control. Please, I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Alright," Sheldon paused to consider what he wanted to ask her next. "I know you've been seeing other men. Have you had coitus with any of them?"

"I walked right into that one," Amy said, though admittedly it was still a better conversation topic than his first choice.

Sheldon said it was awkward and Amy hastily assured him it wasn't. If they were friends they should be able to talk about anything. They always did. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together for so long.

Sheldon then asked her rapid fire questions about her dating life. She answered each one of them in order; she went on seven dates; there were three different men; they primarily met for dinner; one she met in a bookstore and the other two were blind dates. No, she hadn't slept with anyone. What she did not add to that was nor did she have a desire to. If it was not Sheldon, her loins were appropriately subdued.

"Do you have questions for me?" Sheldon asked in return.

She had a million questions. Had he been on dates? Who with? Were they more beautiful than her? Would he want to marry them the way he didn't want to marry her? Had he changed his mind on children? She should be able to ask all those and more yet she held her tongue. They were repairing their friendship and she did not want anything to interfere with that.

It was almost torture to be trapped in the small car with his intoxicating scent of talc surrounding her. After failing at dating other men, she could fully admit she wanted him back. She wanted the ease of their relationship and the trusting affection. The passion. The way they could argue without really arguing at all.

"Just one. Are you doing okay?" Because that, she realized was more important than any of her other questions. She wanted to know he was alright. She still cared about him, perhaps more than she should. It wasn't wise to care about him that much, yet she couldn't help the way her heart felt.

"I am," Sheldon responded.

"Good. I want you to be happy." Did she really spend so much time lying of late that the truth now felt strange? She was an entirely different person than she thought she was. Always confident in herself, now faced with harsh reality she did not like the image she found in front of her.

Amy was not surprised when Sheldon felt the need to complain about the buffet, something she suspected would be lacking and it was disappointingly confirmed. Just like old times, as they began walking through the exhibits he proposed a game. Food, friend or fight. It was like kiss, marry, kill but Sheldon did not seem to see the similarity when she pointed it out to him. Nevertheless, they began playing the game and she felt herself relaxing into the familiarity of their interactions. They were intellectual yet light hearted. She could talk to him and be understood in a way no one else was capable. Their relationship of the minds was not far off even if she constantly wanted more.

Finally she told him she missed this and he was confused. She could not miss a game she never played before and she smiled indulgently at his incomprehension as they wandered onto the next exhibit together. Silly man. Brilliant though he was he could not tell she missed their interactions most of all, the way he could distract and occupy her mind while at the same time inflaming her loins.

The urge to hold onto his hand was strong and she felt heat flaring between her legs and behind her ears. She wanted him badly. So badly. And he, oblivious to it all, continued looking at the fish. What she wouldn't give to be able to touch him, yet he hated touch and only tolerated it from his girlfriend because of contractual obligations requiring much negotiating and still resulting in a lot of whining. As only a friend, any attempt at physical contact would be rebuffed she was sure. She couldn't stand being rejected.

She kept her longing to herself, her insecurity only confirming her earlier belief that breaking up, no matter how hard, was the right thing to do. She could not be forever hurting because her boyfriend did not want to even touch her like she was some icky, slobbery, dog toy one picked up off the ground. He might hurt her but it was unreasonable for her to expect him to change. They were stuck in an unending loop. It was exhausting and for a brief time in his company she could forget it all and just relax.

She dropped him off at Los Robles before heading to her parents's house for the portion of the holiday she really dreaded. Even if the night was awful, at least she could have fond memories of the day with Sheldon, even if it was tinted by the painful undertones.

"Amy!" Cecile greeted her with an enthusiastic hug. Amy reciprocated, glad people were at the house before her. The children were a delight, clamoring for attention from their aunt Amy, attention she was happy to bestow upon them. If her mother did not utter so much as an apology for the last time she was there, Amy was able to ignore her. There were enough people in the house as was. She could easily miss the frail woman looming off to the side in the house full of her relatives.

Her day spent at the aquarium meant she arrived later than the rest of her family and so by the time she finished making her rounds to say hello to everyone dinner was nearly ready. Still full from lunch, her mother's small plateful was sufficient caloric intake for her, even desirable as she was able to emerge from dinner not feeling bloated. Cecile, she noticed, got more food than anyone else, though Amy suspected that was because she was once again pregnant.

Amy rarely found herself in a position of envying those of lesser intelligence than her, Penny's looks and charming personality being the one exception, but she found herself doing so with Cecile.

She might have vehemently argued but her mother was right: she did want children and she knew they would make her happy. She hoped. Despite her failures at dating, that longing she felt did not go away, and if anything it grew stronger.

She knew the path she wanted to take in life and yet the question remaining was how to get there.

After dinner Amy stayed only briefly. She conversed with her father and uncle. They did not ask about her personal life and she did not volunteer any information. It was easier that way.

Eventually she sat off to the side, a pariah amongst her own family. It was not that they did not love her, for they did, but they simply could not understand her. They were of average intelligence and despite their flaws she loved them dearly, yet even as awkward as seeing Sheldon that morning was, she found herself conversing more easily with him than her own blood. In fact, she found it easier to interact with her friends than her own family. She wanted that ease back.

Rather than sit by herself, she sat on the floor with the younger children. She tried to participate in their games but found them too confusing for her taste. Make believe, a practice she did not subscribe to yet the children adored. They were happy to have their aunt Amy playing with them and did not mind overly much that the characters they assigned to her lacked imagination. If she ever took their game of imagination in the wrong direction, Jenna and Mark would steer her back to the unrealistic and whimsical, and oftentimes downright absurd, storyline they had preprepared.

Mark eventually became tired and lost interest in the game, abandoning them to curl up next to Cecile and sleep. With a furtive glance at her mother, Jenna leaned in towards Amy. "Your dad said that you might not come. But I'm glad you did."

"I'm glad I did too," Amy said warmly, because no matter how much she disliked her parents, and especially her mother, she did not want to let the young girl in on her pain. From that, she could protect Jenna. Maybe not forever, but for a time.

"Thank you," Jenna said with a pretend whisper and wrapped her arms around Amy's neck. She felt something sticky rub off onto her. She would be disgusted by the mess later.

"I always want to see you," Amy promised, causing Jenna to squeeze her tighter.

"Will you play paper airplanes with me?" Jenna asked.

Though it wasn't really her style, the thought of her mother's furry at intentionally giving the young girl projectiles to throw around the house was satisfying and had her agreeing right away.

She fetched some spare paper from the printer tray, and Jenna went to work showing her how to make the most aerodynamic airplanes. Her talk of wind resistance and gravity, though not accurate, were astute observations for a child her age, and it got Amy thinking.

Maybe it was to early to tell if she would be interested in science one day, but the potential was there, and while the interest remained, Amy would do all she could to subtly assist the child. Thus, when Jenna's ramblings occasionally led to a mistake Amy gently corrected her and helped her design experiments to show her why she was wrong.

It did not take long for the excitement of the paper airplanes to wake Mark up, and soon he insisted on joining them. He only scrunched the paper into something resembling a plane and then jettisoned it as hard as he could across the room, more often than not resulting in the paper airplane advancing only a handful of inches before plummeting to the ground and consequently causing him disappointment.

The two styles of airplanes between the siblings were shocking dissimilar, but that could also be attributed to the two-year age gap between the two.

As she indulged them in their most recent game—and ignored her mother's scolding at being the enabler for obtaining the paper in the first place—a familiar feeling took over.

That longing in her heart built to a throbbing pulse. She did not want to be alone anymore. She wanted children and a family and everything else that entailed. Not only did she want it, she needed it. Life without was beginning to seem unimaginable.

After a string of mediocre or bad dates, she no longer had the patience to continue trying to find someone else when the person she wanted was almost perfect for her.

She made her excuses to leave early, and while the children protested her loss—she promised to see them more frequently in the future—she was glad to make her escape before her mother could sink her talons into her. The rest of her family was not so bad. They hugged her goodbye and she left without looking back.

On impulse she called Sheldon once she was alone in the car on her way back to her apartment in Glendale. He asked her how her mother's was and she said it was fine. The presence of the rest of her family ensured it was not overly painful. She told him she enjoyed spending the morning with him.

"I'm ready to be your girlfriend again," she finally said bluntly. She felt it in her heart. She was ready to date him again, to throw in her lot in life with him and allow it to happen at whatever pace it choose. She wanted to get the weight off her heart and to banish the impending loneliness. She wanted comfort and security and everything she associated with Sheldon. Even if that did mean her family would only ever be the two of them.

"I thought we were just friends."

"We are," she said, though from the tone of her voice it was clear she wanted more. She immediately began laying out arguments for why they should get back together, none of which included the fact that they loved each other although that was the most compelling reason of all.

"I excel at many things but getting over you isn't one of them. I just want to be friends."

She thought she knew what heartbreak was but before it was on her own terms. This was different. It was harder. He was rejecting her as he often did, but this time it was worse. Much worse and she could not even pinpoint the reason. She was vulnerable and wanting, crossed in love and about ready to give up, and all he wanted out of her was friendship.

She could take a small amount of satisfaction that she was hard to get over but the little bit of satisfaction was drowned out by the painful wailing in her chest.

"I understand," she said, and as if they had not just had a weighty conversation, Sheldon resumed talking about fish.

She barely registered what he was saying, instead letting his voice settle over her. Against her will her eyes blurred with tears and she furiously blinked them away while driving. Luckily for her by that time her apartment was only a short distance away. That voice when directed at her had the ability to draw her in as the angler fish he talked of. In it's indifference it was more piercing than any arrow.

Lonely. Want. All that and more and yet she could have none of that. She was upset. Now she knew how Sheldon felt when she broke up with him, only at least she had not spent the entirety of their relationship rejecting him time and again as he did to her. His rejection was but one of many, and though she should have been desensitized, it cut more deeply than ever before with its ring of finality.

When she got back to her apartment she made her excuses to go, and though Sheldon sounded perplexed that she wanted to stop talking, he said his goodbye. She made her way up to her room and once ensconced in the comforting warmth of her bed, she let the tears fall full force.

She wanted to be his girlfriend again and he no longer wanted her. She was at fault. She hurt him, pushed him away again and again and when he finally respected her boundaries, she came crawling back and was surprised when he rejected her.

As time wore on, she cried all her tears, her face and bedcovers a mess but she did not care. Perhaps it was for the best he rejected her. After all, what really changed between them? She suspected he still did not desire marriage—though he claimed differently—or children, something she suspected would likely never change. He valued his work above all else, and with a brain as advanced as his, well he should. He had a great deal to contribute to humanity and if children would stand in the way of his acclaim, she would not be the one to hinder him.

She could not hurt him like that. She would not stymy his ambitions. For she knew were their positions reversed, she would come to resent the person who stalled her ambitions. She called him on an impulse of the moment, one born out of loneliness and longing and late held affection, but as for substance there was none.

Her actions insured that was the case. She really tried and yet it was all for nothing. Before she could be alone in the world and not care, but no longer.

He just wanted to be friends. It was for the best.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Some dialogue taken from 9x10.

* * *

It was time for her to move on with her life. She did not like crying over Sheldon and she wanted to be happy. She deserved to be happy. She thought back to her dates, and of them all, only one she actually liked, that was until their most recent date where he gushed over Sheldon. Perhaps it was not a smart move to call someone who admired Sheldon, yet meeting new people was both hard and fruitless.

Dave sounded pleasantly surprised and happy to hear from her. A part of her felt gratified that he enthusiastically accepted her proposal to go on a second date. Were he not so genuine and enthusiastic, she would have found it desperate. Not that she had any right to judge desperation give her own circumstances.

When she told Bernadette she was going to meet up with Dave—this time at her apartment and she would cook dinner—her friend was less than supportive. After the fiasco where Penny and Bernadette spied on her date, she understood Bernadette's skepticism, but as a happily married woman, or at least as happy as she could be being married to Howard Wolowitz, she was not under the same pressure Amy was, to both find a partner and not be alone.

Before she ended their phone call Dave agreed that they would not discuss Sheldon. It seemed to be only a temporary fix, but that was all she needed.

Even in her heels he towered over her, having to stoop over to walk though the door. When he asked her how long she'd been in her apartment, she accidentally brought up Sheldon. Not by name, but he had been in her life for a long time and it was only natural some aspects of it were shaped by their relationship. Luckily they found a new topic to discuss, though they quickly exhausted it.

Absentmindedly she complimented his tie clip. He became so enthusiastic at her interest he leaned in to kiss her.

She automatically flinched back and he apologized.

Amy could list and categorize the multitude of reasons why she pulled back. She was surprised though she should not have been; they were on a date and it would not be their first kiss. She was not accustomed to kissing her dates; Sheldon reserved such intimacies for special occasions. It felt too soon to be moving on but that was what she wanted to do; if anything time was running short.

All her problems were in her head. Kissing him would be different from kissing Sheldon, but that was the point. She did not want to be stuck in her past unable to move forward. It wasn't healthy and it was not the life she wanted to have. She had one brief moment of weakness but she couldn't allow it to happen again.

Amy initiated their next kiss. Unlike the previous peck on the lips, the kiss became more heated, and by the time they broke apart for air, she was certain her face was a bit flushed. They kissed a second time, and a third. By then she was near enough to him it would only take a slight movement for her to be on his lap.

She pushed his shoulders away. Her body was taught with anticipation but her mind wasn't ready. Not yet. "Maybe you should leave," she suggested, because if he did not leave then, she was not sure how far it could go. Funny how she felt more connected to him when they talked less and kissed more. She would have thought it to be the other way around.

"I'm sorry. This was too much."

"Don't be sorry but it's probably best if you go. I'd like to see you again," she said hopefully.

The immediate approval her request was met with flattered her vanity. They set a time to meet in a couple of days and she saw him out of her apartment. He gave her one last kiss before he left, though it was no where as heated as the ones on her couch.

Left to her own devices, she had to wonder at the apparent ease with which they progressed from a kiss to a full blown make-out session. It was clear to her where their interaction was heading.

Before she could work herself up into a tizzy, she heard the familiar ritualistic knocking on her door. Sheldon brushed past her into the room without a care or even a hello.

He spoke about a song and heartworms, two things she would not necessarily connect. Her confusion ended when he said. "Amy, if you want to be my girlfriend again, I really want to be your boyfriend."

"I really want that too," Amy said, and then because she just had a good date, she knew it could not end there. "But . . ." She trailed off at Sheldon's pained expression, the way he stood taller and tried to appear impervious when she knew he was actually vulnerable. She didn't want to hurt him but she didn't have a choice.

How easy it would have been to go back to being his girlfriend, go back to the old status quo. It would be comforting but it would no longer make her happy. There was a longing in her heart and it would no longer be satisfied by a glacial pace. She needed more and faster.

"But," she repeated, "Nothing has changed for me. I know what I said, but I was upset. Sheldon, I need to know if we are still going to have problems?"

"I do want to marry you someday," Sheldon said. He appeared sincere and gave away none of his usual clues that he was being less than honest.

"I believe you," Amy said, "but what about children?"

Sheldon sighed. "I can soldier through," he said.

No enthusiasm. No agreement. Simply resignation tinged with a little bit of sorrow. He made it clear that if progeny were the price of getting her back he would pay it but he would not be happy about it. She did not want to do that to him. To satisfy her own desires at the cost of his; she was not selfish enough. She loved him too much still. And, if she thought about her children, she did not want them to grow up with a reluctant father. She did not want Sheldon to resent her and she did not want her children to wonder why their father didn't care about them.

"I don't want you to just soldier though. Will you ever want children?"

"I don't know," Sheldon said, admitting for perhaps the first time in his life there was something he did not know.

She, however, knew the answer. Not yet. Not for a long time. Not until he achieved his career goals. The most likely scenario if they waited for him to be ready she would be too old, if not post-menopause then old enough for a pregnancy to be very risky for both her and the child. And she wanted them to be hers. Not adopted. Not born from a surrogate. But hers.

Sheldon would accept nothing less than perfection in his children. Biology paved the way for adaptation and survival; perfection was irrelevant in the continuation of a genetic line.

They were on either sides of a rapidly widening gap. There was no way to bridge it as the other became more distant.

She shook her head. "I love you, but we still have the same problems as before. I think it's best if we remained friends."

Sheldon looked at her cooly and she could see the way his heart broke. "I love you too," he said, "but I don't think we can 'remain friends'."

What had she done? She broke him. Her refusal broke him. She had not just rejected him but did it multiple times. They still loved each other and he was right: until they were no longer in love they could not be friends. It could never work any other way.

"Alright," she agreed and saw him out.

Once he was gone, she fought to keep from crying yet again over him. With a small measure of pride she succeeded.

* * *

AN: Here ends part one. I suspect I just made quite a few people unhappy.


	25. Chapter 25

Part II

* * *

Her new resolution to move on, for good this time, resulted in a thorough interrogation from Penny and Bernadette. They held girl's night frequently, going out to bars and the like. Drunkenness, apparently, suited her as much as it did Penny.

Her girlfriends were missing from her life recently, as she allowed it to be turned upside down. Penny and Bernadette did not lead her to self-destruct. They put her back together.

When she finally admitted to some of what she'd done, Penny had squealed and did not believed her. Bernadette did not believe her either and thankfully for her hearing she did not squeal. Amy finally showed them the pictures of her before they finally believed her.

She tried to explain how it was part of her self destructing. They congratulated her on being a bad ass, not conforming to the good girl exterior she always displayed.

Their disbelief led to an interesting revelation. Her friends thought her boring. Oh, they still cared for her but they saw her as fitting into the mold and never taking risks. Always the perfectionist, she was solid and dependable. It was liberating to no longer have to be perfect. She made a mistake. She could talk about it. She wasn't any better than either of them anymore.

With Penny and Bernadette married, she was the girl in their group constantly going on dates with new guys. It was her who had the most juicy gossip to share about her personal life. Gossip they wanted to hear, at least.

Amy tried online dating again but with no success. What few matches she got were uninteresting, and if they did lead to conversations, within a few lines they bored her. She only met up with Dave once a week for the first two weeks, and, having finally admitted to herself that dating strange men was a huge failure, she was happy to become exclusive with Dave when he broached the subject.

"I really like you," he said to her. They'd just walked out of the movie theater, having watched a chick flick that neither of them was particularly interested in. However, it was the best option of the movies they both had not yet seen.

"I like you too."

To her surprise, he pulled his hand away from hers and she felt the inevitable sting of rejection at the loss, but her worry ended when he rubbed his hands together nervously. He seemed to be nervous frequently around her, despite her best efforts to put him at ease.

"I thought you should know that I . . . umm . . . that is to say I am not seeing anyone else."

She felt a thrill as he admitted that to her, and she could easily discern just how hard that admission was for him. Being open did not come naturally to him, especially after the way his marriage ended, and it made her proud of him for trying.

"I'm not seeing anyone else either. I tired a few times, but—"

"—But what?" His voice rose in pitch.

"It didn't work out. I really like you." She did. He listened to her. He praised her, but not unnecessarily; he was not a sycophant. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked, because if the conversation was going where she thought it was, she wanted to be ready.

"Since I like you, and you like me, maybe we could . . . fuck I'm making a royal mess of this." Dave ran his right hand through his hair, tousling it. Messy was a good look on him.

"I think you're doing great. Go on." No stranger to encouraging reluctant admissions, she was eager for him to continue

"I'd like us both to not see anyone else," Dave blurted out, and from his horrified expression, she knew he did not mean to be that blunt.

She couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face. "You'd be my boyfriend."

"That is the general idea, yes."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

On impulse he kissed her and she didn't mind in the least. However, a movie theater parking lot was not the most romantic of places for a make out session.

The following weekend, he picked her up to go ice skating. Bundled up as she was in her sweater and leggings, she still felt the chill of the indoor ice rink. Living in California really made her a cold weather wimp.

"What made you decide to study neurobiology?" he asked, taking her hand as they started skating.

Focusing some of her attention on not falling down, she replied, "I always thought the brain was fascinating. I wanted to know how humans work. Besides, with so much of the brain still unmapped, it's the one organ we don't understand that. I want to figure it out. It's a challenge."

"An exploration," Dave added, and while it was not the word she would have used to describe her work, once he said it aloud it fit well.

"Exactly," she agreed. "Why study math?" she asked in return.

Refamiliarizing herself with the gliding motion, she became more confident. Her confidence propelled her forward too quickly and she felt herself stumble.

She would have fallen were it not for Dave holding tightly onto her arm and pulling her upright and towards his center of gravity. In so doing, he winded up skating backwards, but rather than fall himself, he adjusted to the motion, pulling her along with him.

He took her hands again, looking over his shoulder instead of at her to ensure he did not crash into anyone. On a weekend, the ice rink was crowded with teenagers and families with young children all looking for a way to occupy themselves, more often than not skating erratically.

"Thank you," she said, slowing the pace of her skating. She didn't want to risk falling again. It was a near enough miss the first time, and she was only upright because of Dave. "When did you become such a good skater?"

"Which question do you want me to answer first?"

"Either."

"I frequently skated as a child. I like the uniformity of math. More than that, math is a linguistic explanation of the world, and it is in essence a series of definitions and conclusions obtained through the application of a series of logical manipulations to the definitions. Math is like a metaphor and there is no mathematical "Truth" to the universe. It is a language created by humans, consisting of signs, a tangible placeholder, and the concept that they represent. Any meaning, any conclusion can be created. Behind any application, math is in essence an exercise in thought. Without definition, without metaphor, math has no meaning."

"Elegant and predictable," Amy said, hearing the feeling and the raw passion behind his words. It made her shiver with anticipation. If that was the intensity with which he regarded her work, how much stronger would it be in his personal life?

She was eager to find out.

"Infallible," Dave returned, and she heard it in his voice again. While the passion receded as quickly as it came, it simmered beneath the surface, overwhelmed by the trauma of his past. When life failed him, math was constant. It made sense and would not disappoint him as it was inherently logically consistent.

"You're quite the philosopher. Why did you decide to teach?"

Her intellectual curiosity led her to only do research and not to have to teach classes. Students would distract her from her purpose which was the advancement of neurobiology.

"I like teaching," Dave said. " It's fulfilling work. My father and grandfather were both professors as well."

"Were?" Amy questioned.

"They're dead now."

"I'm sorry," Amy sympathized. She might not like her parents but she would not want them dead. She might not always get along with her father, and resent him for siding with her mother over her, but she loved him.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault."

"Still, I shouldn't have pried. Shit!"

The expletive came without thought as one of her blades caught in the ice and sent her falling forward. Gravity pulled her down and though she felt Dave hold onto her again, the second time he wasn't quick enough to stop her fall. However, he did manage to spin her towards the wall where she caught herself.

"Thank you," she panted, having embarrassed herself for the second time. She was on a roll.

"You alright?" Dave asked, concerned, as Amy kept herself steady by holding tightly onto the wall.

"I'm fine. Just surprised," she said. She shouldn't be afraid. It wasn't the first time she'd been skating, and while she was not a proficient as him, she was not helpless.

He held out his hand to her. She waved it away.

"I don't want to drag you down with me next time," Amy explained her refusal. With two near misses, a third seemed inevitable.

"You won't," Dave promised, and grabbed onto her hand anyways.

Turning to skate backwards, he watched her feet and she followed him, still holding onto his hand.

"Make more of a V with your feet. It'll help with your balance."

Amy made the suggested adjustment and to her surprise, she did feel steadier. More confident, she picked up the pace, which Dave matched glide for glide. With his long legs, he had the advantage over her speed wise, though theoretically with her lower center of gravity she should have the better balance.

Once she was skating more confidently than before, he switched to skating next to her, still holding her hand.

"What are your friends like?" Dave asked out of the blue.

Amy tried to think. She must have mentioned them to him, but upon reflection, she hadn't. All the information about them were generalities, that they went on girls nights and the like.

"You've seen them already. In the parking lot."

"The ones who crashed into my car," Dave said.

There was no need to elaborate about that date. It put neither of them in a good light.

"Yes. Them. They're my best friends. Penny is a bit ditsy but she has a heart of gold and she means well. She's become a bit smarter over the years, and she can take on anyone in a fight. It's impossible not to like her. She's warm and open. And Bernadette is a microbiologist and she's a lot like a honey badger. Her voice is shrill and she's tiny, but she's downright scary when she's mad. Don't ever cross her."

Dave laughed. "She was the smaller one?"

While Dave might be more than two feet taller than Bernadette, it was no contest who would win in a confrontation. It would always be Bernadette.

"Yes. And she also has this really dark sense of humor sometimes."

"Maybe I could meet them officially sometime," Dave suggested.

Amy rolled her eyes, glad he could not see her face.

"They'd love that," she agreed. Ever since she started going out with Dave officially they'd begged her to introduce him. They were curious.

In their shoes, she'd be curious too, yet she was also hesitant to introduce him. She really liked him and he her, but her friends could be overwhelming at times. They overwhelmed her when she first met them, although she disguised her uncertainty well. It helped that she felt her emotions less acutely back then.

"You've told them about me," Dave surmised.

"Of course I have. You're my boyfriend."

He grinned.

"Why are you so happy?"

"You told your friends about me."

She could not miss that boastful tone. It did not irk her in the least.

"It's not a big deal," Amy said. "I tell them everything." She did. More than either of them ever wanted to know. Yet having him point her candor out was disconcerting, because her actions revealed more than her words that she was beginning to care about him.

At first he was interesting. Sexy. He was a good kisser and he could take her breath away and make her forget. He was stable and mature, and he could be good for her. When it came to politics and religion they were similar minded, and although those were not prerequisites for a relationship, it helped that they were of the same bent. It was a physical and mental attraction but with each date, each kiss, she felt the attraction deepening.

Gradually, it was becoming more. It could become a lot more if she only let it.

The problem was she wasn't sure she wanted to let it, because if she allowed it, it would be the final admission that she was moving on. From that point onwards, there would be no changing her mind. No going back.

If she allowed herself to care about him, she'd give him the power to disappoint her. Not that she thought he would. He was too gentle to intentionally hurt a fly, let alone a person, but emotionally he would hold great sway over her.

If his body language was any indication, he was coming to care for her more as well. If for some reason it didn't work out, and it was too early to know that yet, she could have the ability to hurt him, and she didn't want to do that either.

It was scary. It terrified her. She was drawn to him and did not want to back away, dangerous though that decision might be.

Everything was moving rapidly. A handful of months ago she didn't even know him and now she was contemplating a lot more.

"Don't be embarrassed," Dave said. She wasn't embarrassed. Not really. She was terrified for what the future may or may not hold. She disliked uncertainty.

"I'm not embarrassed," she protested. She wasn't. She had very little shame.

"If it helps any, I told my mates about you."

"What did you tell them?"

She wanted to know what he said, hopefully good. It was a good sign that he told his friends about her. Though sociology was hardly a reputable science in her mind, numerous sources suggested that men talked about their relationships with their friends far less frequently than women did. If he told his friends about her, it meant something. Didn't it.

She shivered in anticipation, though it could have been the cold from the ice rink as well.

"I told them that I'm dating a beautiful American woman."

"That's it?" Amy was in disbelief. Surely if he broached the subject it would have to extend beyond just that.

"What would you have liked me to tell them? That she's an amazing scientist."

He loosened his grip on her hand and ran his pointer finger laterally down her palm. The motion sent tingles through her entire hand.

"Don't do that. I'm ticklish," Amy protested. She didn't pull her hand away.

"That she covers up all her assets under multiple cardigans." Again he ran his finger laterally down her palm, the repetition causing the tingles to flare. Long after the touch ended she could still feel it, a ghostly reminder. She giggled again.

"I'm comfortable this way," she defended herself. She liked wearing cardigans. They kept her warm, even if it meant she boiled in the summer. They were a layer of protection, because if for some reason she passed out at a frat party again, she wouldn't wake up again with more clothes than she had on and would thus not have to bear the humiliation of being undesirable. Her clothing meant she was admired first for her mind and not her breasts.

Dave came to a stop and stepped off the ice rink. Amy followed him. He stood just to the side near the bleachers so that other people could enter and exit the ice rink as they wished, but as for him, he looked down at her.

Leaning in towards her, she could feel the tingle of his warm breath on her ear as he whispered huskily, "Did you want me to tell them that sometimes all I can think about is what she's hiding underneath all these bloody layers?"

His fingers pulled at her sweater and, simultaneously scandalized and turned on by his words, she playfully pushed his shoulders away from her.

"Dave!" Amy scolded. _Don't say things like that._ Only she never said it aloud. She didn't want to.

He desired her. Her body. Maybe she wanted to be respected for her intelligence, but her boyfriend just said he wanted to become intimate with her, and from their increasingly frequent and more heated kisses, she knew it was the inevitable direction their relationship was taking. Swept along by the tide, she happily followed along. The deep timbre of his voice as he whispered in her ear, and the intimacy at the close physical proximity, had her drowning in her desire.

She knew how to deal with letting her desires go unfulfilled. Unacknowledged. It was a routine dance but not this time. Not now.

"You want that too," Dave observed, not the least bit fooled by her automatic display.

"Yes."

She didn't have time to say anything else because she kissed him. She had to lean up on the tips of the blades, relying entirely on his body for balance. If he let her go she would fall over, and though her ankles ached at the awkward position and the plastic of the boots cut into her circulation she did not spare the discomfort a thought.

She could feel his desire for her in the kiss and it amplified her own. Only they were in public.

Dave guided her back down to stand steadily on her blades. She was about to protest the sudden change when her stomach growled.

Dave's grin let her know he heard it.

"Peckish are you? I saw a nice looking cafe down the block. Let's get you something to eat."

"I'm famished," Amy agreed. Skating took a surprising amount of energy out of her.

Rather than drive, they decided to walk the short distance to the cafe, enjoying the sunshine and the warm California air. It made her aware that she really did not get outside enough, focused as she was on her research in the lab and the indoor pursuits with her friends. They guys were nearly allergic to sunshine even wearing SPF 50.

He got a sandwich while she ordered a soup and salad, and while they waited for their meal to be brought out, she held his hand from across the table.

Remembering his earlier comment about infallibility, she felt a twinge of sympathy. Though neither of them were strangers to failed relationships, the reasons were vastly different. At least in hers she never had to worry about infidelity, be it mental, physical, or emotional.

"I'm not going to hurt you." It wasn't a promise she could keep. She could never actually promise not to hurt him, because there was no guarantee. But she did know was that she would do her best to prevent any pain he might feel. "I'm not your ex wife. I'm not going to cheat."

For that was the heart of the issue. While he cared about her, deep down he harbored doubts she might be like his ex wife. She wasn't, and he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't cheat on him, but emotional trauma ran deep. She understood it well. It characterized her every interaction with her mother.

"I know you're not her. Believe me, Amy, I do know."

"But you still won't open up to me. Not fully." From his expression her observation was correct, for that day as he talked about his profession, for the first time she saw him truly unmasked and open. It was different and she liked that side of him. She wanted to nurture that part, bring it to the forefront.

"You know but you don't act like it."

Dave sighed. "It isn't that simple."

"Neurobiologist remember. I understand." She was well qualified to understand the workings of the human brain even as much of it was still a mystery even to her and the top experts in her field.

"I think you're beautiful," he abruptly changed the subject. Diversion was a common indicator that the person was either uncomfortable or lying. However, she glanced down at the table and blushed at the compliment, absently poking at her salad with her fork but lacking the intention to spear a biteful.

"Thank you," she said.

"You don't believe me," he observed.

She glanced up at him, astonished he perceived that without her having to explicitly tell him that.

"How did you know?" she asked, more surprised than anything else.

"I can be observant too. Why don't you believe me? Who made you feel that way?"

Amy took a bite of her salad. The conversation was too intense for a small cafe but Dave sounded determined. There would be no diverting him.

"You wouldn't understand," Amy said. She did not mean it to be condescending, but it came across that way even to her own ears.

"I might not be a neurobiologist too but give me some credit."

Amy sighed. "Fine. My mother says I'm unattractive. Penny is beautiful and I'm the ugly duckling next to her. Raj has had a crush on practically every girl he's talked to, but not me. When I was in college I went to a frat party and woke up with more clothes on. My last boyfriend had to be coerced into kissing me most of the time. So if you're the expert, you tell me why everyone seems to find me repulsive."

"I'm sorry all that happened to you, but it doesn't mean anything to me. I think you're very attractive."

"Really?" She came across as hopeful and she despised the vulnerability she projected.

"Really. Your eyes light up when you talk about the brain, and you have the oddest sense of humor. You're almost frank to the point of being off-putting, but you're so kind it's impossible to take offense. You're smarter than I am, and your right pinky finger twitches whenever you are about to correct someone."

"Does not!"

Yet even at her exclamation she felt it, now made aware of the slight movement. The way Dave raised his eyebrows at her let her know he felt the movement as well.

"Fine. Maybe a little. But not every time."

There it was again. That twitch. Dave's mouth upturned in amusement and she saw him trying not to laugh before he gave up entirely and let loose.

"Yes every time," he said when he finally stopped laughing.

She glared at him in return. It wasn't funny. She was completely in control of her body language.

"No it doesn't. I'll prove it to you."

Stupid reflexive motion that she had not even noticed until Dave brought it up. Her newest failed attempt caused him to laugh at her expense once more.

"I told you you can't help it."

"Yes I can!"

Twitch.

Annoying though it was, no matter how hard she tried she could not stop it. Even conscious of the movement it still happened despite her efforts to will her hand to be still.

"No you can't." There was no malice there. Only amusement and disagreement.

She hated loosing arguments but the current evidence would appear to support his hypothesis.

"You're impossible."

"You just don't want to admit defeat."

"I can prove you wrong." Twitch. Damn autonomic nervous system. It was really messing with her at the moment.

He chuckled at the feigned furious look she assumed, but as she looked at him, expression open and full of laughter, she felt her exasperation fade away and she joined in the laughter.

* * *

AN: What do I do after spending the last five hours arguing with LaTex about the correct formatting for my thesis while it metaphorically flips me off? Procrastinate by posting fanfiction. I'm warning everyone now that my updates may be slower for the rest of the month as in the next week and a half I have to finish and present my thesis while flying around the country to tour the three law schools that offered me full tuition scholarships (yay! but it makes the decision about where to go so much harder).

To guest reviewer who I couldn't respond to personally: Amy isn't perfect. While the last chapter did reference the brief time when she wanted to be his girlfriend again, she didn't actually mean it. She'd had a string of rough dates, was feeling lonely, had lingering embarrassment from her 'teenage rebellion', and had to put up with her family. She was upset and wanted to take the easy and familiar way out and get back together with Sheldon, but once she had time to think about it she would have changed her mind. (I've seen so many people get back together with their exes even when they're incompatible or it was a bad relationship for the comfort, familiarity, or the realization that it is really hard to start a new relationship. I think Amy's moment of weakness a couple days previously is plausible.) She and Sheldon both know there is no way to compromise; one of them will have to make a sacrifice, which isn't fair to either of them. Sheldon's a smart guy. He probably would have figured a lot of this out on his own, difficulties understanding emotions not withstanding, which is why he doesn't mention it. Though as for Part II, it focuses entirely on Amy and Sheldon apart.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN** : I've been receiving quite a few questions recently whether this story will be Shamy or not. My answer is that the title of this story is a huge clue; my original working title was _The Long Way Around_. I don't want to spoil the story by concretely answering the question, but for readers who will only continue to read if there is a Shamy HEA, leave a review or PM if I can contact you by PM, or otherwise my email is my pen name at yahoo . com, and I will answer the question. Cheers!

* * *

"I don't think this is right," Penny commented, causing both Amy and Bernadette to look over her shoulder to see what was on her canvas.

"Is that your handprint?" Bernadette asked, looking at the bright orange splotch over the pink and purple.

"Yes. Don't judge me," Penny said defensively.

"This is not a finger painting class," Amy said. She, too, was befuddled at how Penny managed to stain her hands with paint and get a handprint on her canvas when both she and Bernadette, and the rest of the class, managed to keep the paint contained to their paintbrushes.

"I know that," Penny protested.

She loved her bestie but Penny was not good at artwork. When she suggested the paint and sip class as something all three of them would enjoy—she and Bernadette for the painting and Penny for the wine—she had not anticipated Penny at being truly terrible at painting.

Penny looked first at Bernadette's painting and then at Amy's. "Wow. This looks really good," Penny said.

Her crush on Penny might have ended awhile back, but that did not stop the pride Amy felt at Penny's compliment.

"To be fair, we're being given step-by-step instructions."

As if to prove her point, the instructor began the demonstration as to how to paint the sun in the upper left corner of the canvas. Amy and Bernadette followed suit, while Penny ignored the lesson.

"Don't mock me," Penny warned.

"It's so hard not to," Amy said. Indeed, while everyone else in the class managed to follow the instructions, from painting the beach to the ocean and now the sunset over the water, Penny's canvas looked more like a smeared blob. The colors were in the wrong places and it would take either a great deal of creativity or being very drunk to recognize her scenery as anything resembling the beach. Or the ocean. Or the sky.

"Yeah. When I babysat my younger siblings when they were toddlers they could still paint better than Penny," Bernadette commented.

Amy laughed before she could stop herself. Penny glared at her, but since her best friend somehow managed to get paint smeared on the sides of her face and in her luscious blond locks, her glare only made Amy laugh harder.

"That's definitely mocking," Penny grumbled.

Bernadette joined Amy in her laughter, making her feel slightly less guilty for mocking her bestie. Maybe they were mocking her, but that was only because toddlers could make better paintings than Penny, and they just threw pain on paper in true Pollock fashion and called it art.

"I'm sorry," Amy said, though she wasn't sincere. She had nothing to be sorry for.

"Yeah, well, now you don't get to share my wine."

Penny picked up the second bottle of wine she brought and took a swig.

Amy and Bernadette returned to their paintings as the instructor began demonstrating the final touches to make. They followed along with the instructions.

"Aren't you going to finish your painting?" Bernadette asked.

Amy did not need to know whether Bernadette intended her last comment to mock Penny as well. The effect was the same either way.

"I'm no good at this. I give up," Penny said.

"That's alright bestie. What you lack in talent you make up for in beauty," Amy said.

Bernadette eyed Penny's bottle of wine sitting on the table. The label and the glass were covered in different colors of paint, left there from Penny's hand.

"Did you drink that all by yourself?" Bernadette asked.

"Maybe." Which Amy knew to mean yes.

"This should be called a paint and swig class." As far as she could tell, most of the participants had, like Penny, drank a fair amount over the course of the past couple of hours. "I will suggest it to the proprietor of this establishment in my review."

"Now that was an insult," Penny said.

"No it wasn't. Buy maybe you'd be better at painting if you weren't drunk," Bernadette said.

Only she wasn't drunk. Not really. Amy knew her bestie well enough to tell. She was a bit tipsy, but Penny was not yet engaging in the ridiculous manner she did when she was actually drunk.

"Unlikely," Amy automatically replied, remembering one of their girls night activities not too long ago, "Remember when we went to paint pottery."

"Oh yeah. Penny did all these cute thumb paintings," Bernadette recalled. It would be hard to forget that girls night. Just as she was now, Penny managed to cover herself in the acrylic pastel paints. It was impressive to watch her.

"It was intentional," Penny defended herself.

"Keep telling yourself that bestie," Amy said. She knew better. It wasn't so much Penny intended to finger paint, but that it happened and by putting a few dots for eyes on her thumb prints she was able to pass them off as artwork. Not sophisticated artwork, and nothing that would be put on display, but artwork.

"Hey!" Penny exclaimed, loud enough to draw a few eyes to her. "You're picking on me. You're such a bully."

Hardly, but the accusation stung just the tiniest bit. After spending her childhood, and her teenage years, and her young adult hood, as one of the favorite targets the bullies used, she was not one. She wouldn't be. She wouldn't mock and ridicule people. Not like she was.

"Sorry," Amy apologized sheepishly. It started out as good natured ribbing, incited by the splotches on Penny's canvas, but as she and Bernadette continued mocking Penny, they went to far. "I didn't mean to—"

"—Yes you did," Penny interrupted, but as her best friend looked at her, Amy watched the anger and hurt melt away with relief.

Amy watched with apprehension as Penny's expression became sly. "But that's alright. I was on the internet and I stumbled upon a very interesting fanfiction."

Amy gulped. Maybe it wasn't what she thought it was, but after Bernadette ratted her out the first time, she would not put it past Penny to look for some of her more recent writings which were, but all accounts, as equally embarrassing as Amelia and the Time Traveling Physicist.

"Ohhh," Bernadette practically sang. "More stories with Amelia."

"You bet."

"Please, stop," Amy begged. If Penny was about to bring up what Amy thought she was, then she really wanted to stop it.

"Like you stopped when I asked? I don't think so."

"Tell me," Bernadette begged. Amy looked back and forth between the two blonds. They were dead set on embarrassing her.

To think there was once a time she wanted friends. Now all her friends wanted to do was torment her. She'd let them because it meant she had friends. Popular girl drama and all that jazz.

Rather than wait for Amy to distract them, or for Penny to drink enough wine until she forgot, Bernadette whipped out her phone. "What do I look up?"

"Amelia and the naughty math professor," Penny said.

Horror filled her. Her suspicions were right. Penny had found her more recent works. With the title, it was easy for Bernadette to find her newest _Little House on the Prairie_ fanfiction novella and begin reading.

Loudly.

In a public place.

With people listening.

Not that she cared what strangers thought of her, but still. It made her want to crawl up in a hole and ignore the world until the entire experience was over. When exactly had her teasing turned back on her?

Right. When Penny told on her.

Beautiful, vivacious, conniving Penny. Were she not perfect in every single way that mattered, Amy would have been infuriated. As it was, all she could do was lunge at Bernadette and try to take away her phone and stop the dreaded recitation.

Bernadette gleefully read aloud while Penny did her best to block Amy. It worked. All she had to do was get her paint covered body in the way and Amy retreated. She hated being messy and she did not want to become covered in paint as well. Her clothes, fingers, hair, skin, and every other body part was clean and she intended to keep them that way.

Since Amy had to drive everyone home, she could do nothing to stop Bernadette from reading in the car as well. Reading over her words on the computer screen versus hearing them voiced aloud were two different things.

"Have you had sex with Dave yet?" Penny abruptly changed the topic.

While she did not mention him by name, there was no mistaking the British math professor who traveled to 19th century Kansas as anyone but Dave. Tall with scraggly hair and glasses. It had to be him.

Of course, the answer to Penny's question was simple. The moment she lost her v-card, her bestie would know. She told Penny everything, including the details she really did not want to know.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Just that this is getting kinda steamy."

It was no surprise. A girl could only kiss her boyfriend so many times, feel the physical evidence of his arousal, before she couldn't keep her fantasies to herself any longer. She needed to get them out on paper.

"Amelia and the Time Traveling Physicist was steamy," Bernadette commented.

"In a creepy way."

Now that hurt. Sure she was over that story. She hadn't worked on it in a very long time. But still. Her best friend called her fantasies creepy.

"Hey! Low blow," Amy protested. _Keep calm_ , she reminded herself. Penny meant nothing by it. Nothing hurtful. Her bestie was too king and caring. Maybe she teased her, frequently.

Creepy. That was the distasteful word Penny reserved solely for Howard Wolowitz. And not her.

"That's what she said." Penny giggled at her own joke.

The wine was finally getting to her as she finished the bottle, and Amy could see the effect as she moved from tipsy to drunk.

"You really haven't slept with him yet?" Bernadette asked curiously. Unlike Penny, she was in complete control of her faculties.

"No." Why couldn't her friends believe her? She wasn't the one with a propensity for lying. That was Penny. Even so that woman had no faults.

"I think Penny has a point."

"Thanks Bernie," Penny sang. Her voice was atrocious.

"This is a different type of steamy. It's more . . . umm . . . mature? Realistic? I don't know. It's just different."

Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. She didn't remember her first story well enough to say. However, Bernadette's observations were not implausible. Far from it.

If she didn't know herself to be undesirable, despite what her boyfriend seemed to think, she would agree with Penny and Bernadette.

Maybe her story did read like she was finally in a physically intimate relationship.

She wanted to be. Her near constant arousal on each of their dates was proof enough. The way their kisses quickly escalated. After he found second base the first time, he became more comfortable touching her.

She tentatively returned the treatment, going much more slowly and carefully as she would a frightened animal. Her subconscious expected him to pull away. Only he didn't. He only held her closer; it was flattering and terrifying at the same time.

She cared about him. She really cared about him. On days she did not see him they texted. Whenever she had exciting news to share she went first to Penny and then to him.

Amy could feel her world shifting. Everything was changing quickly, and despite her better judgement she was letting herself be pulled along.

"Earth to Amy," Bernadette said.

Penny giggled again. "You make her sound like Howard Wolowitz."

The comparison was not the least bit flattering, but since Penny was drunk, Amy let it slide.

"What?" she asked. Had she missed something? She couldn't recall. She'd been lost in her thoughts.

"You're smiling," Bernadette observed.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." If she smiled it was not intentional. As the current subject of her friends's mockery, she had nothing to smile about at the moment.

And yet the reading of her story about Dave reminded her of him and when she thought about him, despite her uncertainty about what the future might hold, she smiled. Without thought. Without care. She was turning into a hippy.

"He makes you happy," Bernadette observed.

Were Penny sober, she'd be prying Amy for more details, trying to figure out the exact thoughts that made her smile in her mysterious fashion. As it was, she said, "I ran out of magic happy juice."

Penny held up the paint stained, empty wine bottle to prove her case.

"Put that away Penny. I'm driving," Amy said. Although it was empty and Penny was in the backseat, open bottles of alcohol were a no go.

Penny dropped the bottle back down at her feet. "Party pooper."

"I'm glad you've found someone," Bernadette said, ignoring Penny entirely.

Bernadette was sincere. Amy could tell that from the tone of her voice. But she also sounded wistful.

"Me too," Amy agreed. Without even realizing how it happened, she had found someone. It had not been perfect the entire time, but they'd settled into a relationship. Became exclusive.

He'd opened up to her and she to him. They were progressing, though towards what she was not yet sure.

"You look just like I did when I first started dating Howie," Bernadette observed. "Are you in love with him?"

She didn't like not knowing the answer. Yet how could she say. Perhaps she could measure her oxytocin, vasopressin, and dopamine levels, and yet what would that actually reveal? She didn't have baseline levels. She could try to quantify love, and she would probably succeed given enough time, but she wasn't sure she wanted to either. She'd been in love before. Still was. What she felt for Dave was deep, and growing stronger each time she saw him, and yet she did not have enough information to know if it was love.

It could be, but maybe it wasn't. She trusted him. They did not need well defined, contractually guaranteed parameters. When they came to a boundary they discussed it as needed and not before. Whenever they were apart she wanted to see him. Numerous times throughout her day she saw things that reminded her of him.

That didn't make what she felt love.

"I'm not sure. I think I could be someday."

And there it was again. That ever present, usually disguised, ticking time bomb. Someday and eventually were too far off. They were not well defined. She needed and she needed soon. Her time was running short.

She couldn't afford to wait any longer. She couldn't afford to rush forward before she was certain.

Dave had once said he wanted children, though that was with his ex wife. Did he see that with her?

Did she see herself with him in the long run? The forever kind?

She simply didn't know and it was killing her, bit by bit. She dealt with facts first.

She took Dave on a tour of her lab. He enthusiastically asked her questions about her work and she answered them. He took a particular interest in her two-photon microscope. He appeared enthralled by the image and she was only able to break him away from the machine in the darkened room with the promise of showing him the fMRI instead.

They started going on dates twice, then three times a week, until half her evenings were spent with the girls and half on dates with Dave.

The girls constantly teased her about Dave. She was thrilled. It meant she was the interesting and exciting one.

Yet no matter how passionate their make out sessions became, Dave still never moved past second base. Not after she rebuffed his first few attempts when she was still unsure what she wanted.

She wanted to ask for more but she wasn't sure how. She was weary, afraid he'd reject her. Afraid he would find the notion ridiculous. Afraid he would run away from her and not look back.

Because that was what people did when she expressed her sexual desires. They mocked them, teased them, ridiculed them, and ignored them. Her friends were no exceptions. They were often the greatest perpetuators. She did not tell them how much their favorite ongoing joke of 'Amy can't get laid' hurt her because she didn't want to loose them.

Dave was different. Her rational side knew that, yet each time she tried to broach the subject she failed. Alone in her apartment, Gerard finished the job for her.

While Dave had been to her apartment many times, she finally saw his house come mid-December, which was much larger than her one bedroom apartment.

Intermittently she began looking for a new place to live. As she pointed out before, she no longer needed to stay in her current location. She could move anywhere within commuting distance of her work. Her neighborhood in Glendale wasn't the best and it was a bit further away from her work than she would like. She could also use more space, a second room perhaps. She wanted a place with a bigger kitchen for her to cook in, and she repeatedly told herself that criteria had nothing to do with her desire to impress Dave. Nope. Not at all. She wanted an apartment with newer plumbing, something less likely to burst and damage her apartment.

Yet each apartment she saw she rejected. There was always some flaw. The neighbor had a dog that barked. She wanted a gas stove and it was electric. The floor plan was all wrong. The outlets appeared upside down. No matter how small or large a critique, it always stopped her from seriously considering taking a new lease. Something held her back. What it was she did not know.

Her friendship with the girls became even stronger, though when Bernadette announced she was pregnant, Amy could not help but feel jealous at the same time the announcement spurred a longing in her.

She thought the longing subsided with time but alas, it had not. The clock was steadily ticking away, the hour hand making its way slowly but surely around the circle. Bernadette did not seem enthusiastic about being pregnant. Amy knew her friend's thoughts on the topic and wished their positions could be reversed. Not with Howard. She had no feelings towards the reformed sleazy engineer, but the pregnancy. What came after it. She wanted that for herself.

And Bernadette. She didn't want children. Oh, she seemed positive now that she was pregnant, no pun intended, though Amy wondered whether it was a farce.

Bernadette grew up babysitting her young siblings and she hated the childcare duty. Although she was a scientist, the motherhood penalty would still apply to her. Not as much as it would to a woman working outside of a STEM field, perhaps, but Bernadette would feel the effects. The effort Bernadette went to to conceal her pregnancy at work alerted Amy to the fact that Bernadette was very well aware of the consequences. Be it systemic or institutional, Bernadette prided herself on making boatloads of money while her husband had a small salary. She didn't want to risk winding up on a less lucrative project because she was pregnant.

Bernadette wanted to talk to adults and enjoy her life rather than staying home with the children. As a scientist as well, Amy could relate. She might not always be in tune with the world, but Bernadette's fears for the future were real.

Her friend put on a good facade at being happy, and maybe Bernadette was, but Amy got the sense she was not thrilled. Not like Amy would be were their positions reversed, consequences to her earning potential notwithstanding.

Sometimes, she wondered if the baby was intentional. She tried to ask Bernadette once, but she prevaricated. Whatever the case was, Bernadette did not want to talk about it.

Once she would have pried, and while she loved gossip, she knew enough not to interfere in a married couple's bedroom.

Whatever Bernadette's true thoughts were, at least she had a strong support system. Not from Howard. Not in a way that involved actual work at any rate. But between Stuart and Raj, Bernadette and her unborn baby were well taken care of and she had plenty of help with the household chores as the Wolowitz's readied themselves for a baby.

Seeing Bernadette in the early stages of her pregnancy brought Amy's biological clock back to the forefront of her thoughts.

The desire to reproduce was prudent and evolutionary. There was no shame in following her hormones. It was how _Homo sapiens_ continued their existence. Reproduction was how all species that survived continued their line.

She cared for Dave, but could she go on, she could risk loving him, if there was no future? She needed to know how he felt about children, and not just in the theoretical someday with someone.

With her.

Because tall and slender and geeky. She could see them. Her future children. It was not so great a change in image from the previous one, and yet it was different. Easier. She did not have to fight tooth and nail for them. They were wanted. Loved. Adored. They'd learn to speak with a mix of her American accent and his British one and everyone they met would be confused about their nationality.

She needed to know if it was a possibility, and if it wasn't, she had to end it. Just like she did before.

Though it was perhaps a bit too soon in their relationship to bring up the topic, Amy boldly spoke her mind as she was want to do. Confident though she appeared on the outside, inside was was wracked by nerves.

"Do you want children?" she said abruptly and with no introduction.

Dave looked startled but replied, "Eventually, yes."

"I do too," Amy confided.

They both locked eyes, and though no words were said, she felt as if they were communicating. They were one the same page. "I want two children," she said.

It seemed like a good number. She still intended to work full time at a job that often required her to spend evenings or weekends in her lab, and he would as well. Any more than that and it would become difficult to manage. Two point five children and a white picket fence and a career. She was chasing a dream and it should feel ridiculous but it wasn't.

"I do too," Dave said.

That was that. They were on the same page as far as children went. There was no more need to talk about it. They were smart people. They would work the rest out in time. Time she didn't have. Oh she was aware of that as they celebrated her thirty-third birthday.

 _Tick_. In the background, she could hear it. _Tick._ A metronome steadily tapping out the beat. _Tick_.

"I want you to meet my friends," Amy said.

"Alright," Dave agreed.

They'd been dating a month and Penny and Bernadette were beyond curious about Dave, having not spoken to him except the one time when Bernadette backed up into his car.

She admitted to some surprise at the ease with which Dave agreed to meet her friends. She thought he would be intimidated. Only after making him promise not to fawn over any of them, Leonard, Howard, and Raj specifically, she made the introduction.

Dave fulfilled his end of the bargain. He made no mention of being a fan of any of the men. He kept a cool head on him, and it would not be until years later that Amy learned just how much he had to restrain himself in that initial meeting to keep his promise to her.

He didn't fawn over her friends and that was all that mattered. Maybe not all.

She did not stop in her search for a new apartment, but it proved less fruitful than her relationship and her friendships. Still she could find nowhere she wanted to sign a lease. No apartment was good enough.

Something was wrong with all of them, and maybe it was that she did not know what she wanted, or that she was unwilling to settle, but something was off. She just needed to figure out what.

During a particularly cold night towards the end of December, they went to the zoo to admire the Christmas lights. Though she went to the zoo numerous times, at night and with the twinkling lights it was an entirely different experience.

With her fingers numb from the cold, they sipped hot chocolate as they looked at the lights displaying monkeys.

She looked towards Dave, but rather than admiring the lights as she was, he was looking at her. He immediately focused his gaze on the display when she caught him staring and even in the darkness she could see the faint blush that suffused his cheeks.

Amy was certain her cheeks matched his exactly. He looked adorably cute, tall and slender and with his sexy accent, nursing his warm cup of hot cocoa. Perhaps it was a bit too soon in their relationship—they had only been exclusive for two weeks— but before she could stop herself she heard herself blurting out, "I love you."

Dread and horror mixed as she stared intently at her shoes, cup of hot cocoa in her hands all but forgotten. She was stupid. She was sure she scared him off. From Penny's reactions she well knew the dangers of the premature I love you.

She did not even know where the words came from. She did not think she loved him. She had affection for him, of course, and thought him attractive. She was certainly physically attracted to him. Yet she still stopped their make-out sessions before they made it to the bedroom, while at the same time she wished he would make a move on her, too afraid to ask and risk being rejected. As time progressed she had to stop them earlier and earlier. The physical side of their relationship she enjoyed very much, feeling desirable yet comfortable that her wishes to not move to quickly were always respected. She wanted to move faster.

The contradictions confused her.

It was easy to loose herself when she was with him, to give into the longing. Maybe theirs was not the most intellectually passionate of relationships—they rarely argued—but they got along well enough. When they discussed their work it was interesting, and his personality emerged the more she got to know him. Incredibly private, she found she wanted to know more. A lot more.

Yet affection to love was a huge leap. There was none of that toe curling, stomach dropping nausea she heard love to be, yet as she contemplated her words, she realized they were true. Rocky though their relationship began, she wanted to keep seeing him. Did not want to contemplate no longer seeing him. Couldn't contemplate no longer seeing him.

It was love. A different love than she knew of or saw in others, but she was sure it was love.

She held her breath as she waited for Dave to respond, and although it was only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity to her.

"I love you too," he said.

Relief. Love. Affection. She kissed him.

He dropped her off at her apartment and she invited him up for their customary night cap.

"It's late. I should go," Dave said after glancing at his watch.

It came as no surprise to her when she did not want him to leave. "You know. Maybe you could stay here tonight?" she suggested.

"Really?" Dave asked. He sounded just as eager as she felt. "I mean, I'd love to."

"Good. I'll go find a spare toothbrush," she said and hurried to the bathroom. She found the extra toothbrush exactly where it was supposed to be a placed it on the counter. She took a minute to study her face in the mirror. She was not classically beautiful, she supposed, but at least her makeup was still intact by the end of the night. For good measure, she added a coat of lip gloss.

"I left it on the counter for you," Amy said when she came back into the living room to find Dave still sitting on the couch. She joined him and looked at him a bit nervously though she was also excited.

It was plain pathetic at her age to still be a virgin. "I've never done this before," she admitted.

"Done what?"

"Sex."

"You're kidding?" She supposed she should be flattered by Dave's surprise but instead it only added to her embarrassment.

Apparently they spent more time kissing than talking if she had not told him yet. If he had not figured it out on his own.

She shook her head no. No she was not kidding. "I'm a bit nervous," she admitted. She knew exactly what she was doing when she asked him to spend the night, what was implied by it. Now she knew she loved him, and with the reassurance that he loved her, the barriers she'd put up whenever their kissing went a bit to far crumbled. It was as if they'd never been.

She had no more concerns. No more doubts. She was moving forward and she was ready.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," Dave said, though she could tell he was a bit disappointed.

"No! No!" she exclaimed. "I want to. It's just . . ."

"Just what, Amy?" he asked kindly. And seductively. How did he manage it, lanky as he was?

She knew what she wanted in life and pursued it relentlessly. She was aiming for a long term relationship. He wanted children as did she. She loved him. They were heading down the right path. If it weren't, she should break it off now, but she suspected there could be more between them. She wanted more. Sex would happen eventually. It could happen then and there.

She wanted.

"You're experienced and I'm worried about being a disappointment." No matter how much research she did on the subject, and she had done a lot, and the extensive experiments conducted on her body during the paid clinical trials of her undergraduate years, she felt completely unprepared. Oh, she knew the mechanics and a great deal more, but performing in real life was different from memorizing from a book.

"Amy," Dave said and held her hands. She looked up at his earnest face. "You have nothing to worry about. You won't disappoint me. I promise." Soothing. His breath tickled her face, warm and intoxicating. He was right there in front of her, and all she needed was the courage to take a leap forward.

His words did not reassure her much but she smiled. It was time to leap. "Alright. Let's get ready for bed."

She woke up the next morning to an unfamiliar weight over her midsection. Recalling the events from the night before, her tension melted away. Her worries were for naught. She could tell by his deep and steady breathing that he was still asleep, as well he should. They hadn't gone to sleep until the early hours of the morning. Lying there cuddled against him was bliss, but to her dismay the call of nature was hard to ignore.

Reluctantly, she slipped from the bed. He looked peaceful and open in his sleep, an expression she rarely saw on his face when he was awake. She wanted to see it more often.

She went about her morning ablutions, keeping quiet to avoid waking him up. He was still asleep when she finished, and quietly grabbing a book from her nightstand, she retreated to the living room. It was only seven in the morning. He would wake up soon enough.

Only he didn't. An hour later Dave had not emerged from her bedroom and her stomach was growling. Unsure what he ate for breakfast, or even what foods he preferred, she started making coffee and tea. To cover all the bases, she had toast with butter and marmalade, scrambled eggs and sausage, and grapefruit all cut up and prepared.

"It smells good out here," his voice said from the direction of her bedroom.

His hair was in disarray from having only just woken up. "Thank you. I wasn't sure what you liked, so help yourself."

Rather than sitting down at the table where she had the breakfast spread arranged, he came up behind her in the kitchen and hugged her from behind. Amy fumbled removing the tea bag from the pot. "Good morning."

He might still have bed hair but his teeth were freshly brushed. She could smell the mint on his breath.

"Good morning," she returned. "I didn't know if you'd want tea or coffee so I made both."

She felt nervous around him. She shouldn't. They were on very familiar terms. She'd seen him naked. Yet she still wanted to impress him, nervous she'd inadvertently do something to drive him away. She loved him. Loss would devastate her.

"Tea please," Dave said. He sat down at the table, though he waited for her to join him with their beverages. "This looks amazing. You didn't have to go to all this effort."

Amy flushed a little under his praise. "It's nothing. I wanted to."

Wanted to impress him. He served himself a little of everything, and once he began eating, she did as well. Then he took a sip of his tea and Amy watched as he grimaced and set it back down.

"You don't like it," she observed, her face falling a little. He appeared to like the food well enough at least.

"No. You Americans don't know how to make a decent cup of tea."

"I do too," Amy protested. Her father was English. She should know how to make tea. Only Dave didn't like it. She sighed. "Can I get you something else? Coffee? Orange juice?"

She turned away, only she stopped when he said, "I offended you. I'm sorry. Look, I'm drinking the tea."

She turned around to see him drinking more just as he said, and though he tried his best to look as if he liked it, she could see the small sliver of distaste that shined through despite his best attempts to disguise it.

Taking the mug from his hand, she dumped it into the sink. "No. It's alright. I want you to have something you like."

She swirled a bit of warm water around the mug to clean it out before placing it into the sink to clean later. Retrieving a new mug from the cupboard, she poured him coffee instead.

"What I like is you."

She flushed at the ease with which he complimented her. "I'm glad but I was thinking of a beverage."

"Right then. Coffee with a little milk if you don't mind."

She didn't. She poured the coffee and joined him again. They ate their breakfast with little amount of fuss, and she was relieved when she saw him smile as he took the first sip of his coffee. Maybe she couldn't make tea to his exacting standards, but she managed well enough with the coffee.

Dave cleaned up their breakfast. She tried to do it herself but he insisted her. She cooked for him. Cleaning up was the least he could do. She eventually sat down and relaxed.

When the kitchen was once more spotless, Dave joined her on the couch.

"I'd really like to stay longer," he began.

She'd really like that too.

"But I should probably go."

"You can stay if you want," she said. She didn't want to be alone again. She liked having him around in her apartment. "I want you to stay," she said when he still appeared determined to leave.

"I don't have any clean clothes here," Dave returned.

She cuddled up against him and his arm automatically went around his side, pulling her closer. "I like what you're wearing," she said. He looked good in just his briefs and shirt from the day before, unbuttoned down to the middle allowing her to see his chest hair. He appeared unmoved. "You're still going aren't you," she said. She didn't want him to go. Not that soon.

"Hmm," he agreed absently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I really want to stay but I have some matters to attend to." She had stuff to do as well, but that didn't mean she wanted him to leave. Her apartment would feel emptier without him there.

"Alright." She sounded less than enthusiastic.

"Maybe I can see you again tonight?" he asked hopefully.

It would be a first for them, going on dates two nights in a row. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

"I'd really like that but it's girls night."

"Tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow," she agreed.

He did not stay much longer before putting his clothes from the day before back on and kissing her goodbye.

She'd heard that coitus changed relationships. It hadn't made sense to her. After all, if two people liked each other, what difference could there really be before and after coitus? They still liked each other, presumably, and they were still dating. He'd seen her naked. So had her physician and gynecologist, and, if one counted her infantile years, which she did, so had her parents and the majority of her older relatives. She'd seen him naked, but it was nothing she had not seen before in anatomy texts and on cadavers. There shouldn't be much of a difference.

Yet as he kissed her goodbye and left, she felt more bereft than she was accustomed to. She should not feel a pang of loss, but it was undeniable that something had changed. Something big. She felt closer to him than before. She wanted to please him, felt an inherent desire to make him happy the same way he made her happy.

And she understood it. She was different. They were different. Coitus changed their relationship, and she had a blossoming suspicion it was for the better.


	27. Chapter 27

"Dave and I had coitus," Amy announced the moment she walked into 4B. Penny choked on a glass of wine and Bernadette froze.

"Congratulations, Amy," Bernadette said

Penny filled a glass for Amy and joined the other two girls.

"It feels great," Amy said.

"And that's more information than I wanted," Bernadette said.

"And how was it?" Penny asked, then, remembering who she was talking to, said, "On second thought, I don't need all the details."

Amy grinned. From the moment she woke up that morning she felt like an entirely different person. She could now join the same club with her two best friends—she had a man who desired her physically and it felt great.

"Well, I undressed him and—"

"—That's enough details for me," Penny cut her off, knowing that if she allowed Amy to continue she would be treated to far more details than she would ever want to know. Amy was completely shameless in that area.

"Don't be a prude, bestie," Amy said though she really wasn't upset at Penny. She was finding it hard to be upset at anything. She could now personally understand the references her friends made to coitus with their partners, but when she tried to compare notes on exact measurements, Penny and Bernadette both became reluctant to continue the conversation any further.

The next time Dave came over to her apartment, he brought a change of clothes and some of his own toiletries. She did the same when she went to his house.

Glad that she told no one of her search for a new apartment to call home, perhaps something a bit closer to where she worked, she was able to call it off without anyone asking questions she did not want to answer. It was not in anticipation of taking her relationship with Dave to the next level, but subconsciously, she knew that was the exact reason she called off her search. It would be silly for her to start on a year long lease and go to the hassle of moving if she would be moving again in the foreseeable future.

She drove by nearby neighborhoods, the ones with good schools, looking at houses.

After her third trip, she forced herself to stop. It was still too soon to be thinking that way. She did not want to scare Dave off, though they were extremely compatible in bed and, oddly enough, as they became more intimate in the bedroom—and kitchen and living room if she was to be perfectly honest—their mental relationship improved as well. They became more in sync. It was an observation she would remember for later experimentation.

Dave invited her along to a work party. He introduced her as his girlfriend. He held her hand as they walked around. His colleagues were nice. Afterwards, she asked him if he had any friends. He did not have many friends. Not in the states at least. All his close friends were back in England, though he was starting to consider some of his colleagues friends.

She suggested they invite those people over for dinner, to expand the scope of their friendship, and then immediately apologized for her suggestion and overstepping her bounds. Dave, however, found it a great idea. He invited two of his colleagues over for dinner, and Amy arrived early to help him cook. It was a simple ordeal, and by the end of the night, she was satisfied Dave was well on his way to having friends.

With that dinner going so well, she then proposed they do the same for her friends. Dave readily agreed and she found a date all her friends could come. He'd met them before but this would be the first time they'd host them.

She and Dave prepared the dinner and everyone showed up not too long before it was time to eat.

"Smell's delicious, Amy," Penny said by way of greeting. Her nose was alarmingly keen when it came to food.

"Yes, Amy, thanks' for having us," Bernadette said. She then prompted Howard to hand over the bottle of wine they brought.

"Yes, yes, why don't you all show off your relationships while I'm alone."

"Hey, what about me?" Stuart protested. No one seemed to hear him.

Dave was a bit quiet around her friends, no doubt keeping his inclination to fangirl over the guys at bay.

Dinner was a great success. Between the food and the wine, Amy felt like Dave adapted well into her friend group, though it would be awhile before he felt comfortable among them. It took awhile for her to become close friends with them, though a part of that also was her disinclination to be friendly towards them at first.

"I have an idea," Penny proposed.

"What?" Leonard said.

"We should play spin the bottle."

"I am unfamiliar with the rules of this game," Amy said.

Penny grabbed one of the empty wine bottles and lay it down on the table. "It goes like this. I spin the bottle, and I have to kiss who ever it lands on. Then we keep going around in a circle."

Leonard looked at Penny like she was insane and with quite a bit of jealousy. "Just how much have you had to drink?" he enquired.

Penny waved her hand. "Not much."

Amy counted four empty bottles of wine. "I only had a glass," she said. Dave, Leonard, Howard, and Raj only had one glass as well, Stuart two and Bernadette none. That left a little over two of the bottles for Penny to have drunk.

"Penny, are you sure this is a good idea and not just the alcohol talking?" Leonard said.

"Of course it is." Penny sounded resolute.

"So if the bottle lands on my Howie," Bernadette said.

Penny's eyes widened in horror. "Eww. No. Never mind. No spin the bottle," she said.

As much as she enjoyed playing along with whatever games Penny could come up with, she did have to admit that the idea of having to kiss some members of the group: namely Leonard, Bernadette, Howard, Stuart, and Raj, held various degrees of repulsiveness. Penny and Dave, however, she had no problem kissing.

"Maybe we should call it a night," Leonard suggested, knowing it might be best to get his very intoxicated wife home before any other mishaps might occur.

Although Penny protested leaving early, Leonard's sense won out, or her fast approaching hangover did, and she allowed herself to be escorted out.

Bernadette soon made excuses for her and Howard to leave, though they were not excuses as much as pregnancy was exhausting and Bernadette needed more time to sleep than she normally did. Raj and Stuart, the lonely bachelors, were more reluctant to leave. They had no significant other's to remind them they overstayed their welcome, and Amy hoped they would leave on their own before she had to kick them out.

She did feel a bit resentful that they lazed around on the couch while she and Dave cleaned up, but nor did they seem inclined to discuss anything other than comic books, a topic to which both she and Dave held little interest.

"It's getting late," Amy hinted.

Raj and Stuart continued talking. She looked at Dave for help and he shrugged. They were her friends. He did not know them well enough to ask them to leave. And it was her apartment. Her responsibility to get them out.

She yawned loudly and stretched. Both were faked, of course, but it seemed to grab Raj and Stuart's attention. "I'm tired," she loudly whispered to Dave.

Raj caught on. "Right, I should be leaving too," he announced.

"Already. But it's only eleven," Stuart said, reluctant to return alone to Howard and Bernadette's house when he could be conversing with friends.

"Stuart, Amy is tired and wants to sleep. We should leave," Raj explained.

"But he isn't leaving," Stuart protested.

"He is my boyfriend," Amy said as if that settled the matter. When it looked like Stuart was about to protest further, Raj physically dragged him out of the room, a feat the astrophysicist only accomplished because Stuart was lanky and jaundiced.

"Now they're gone," Amy said. Then she yawned for real. Entertaining her friends was tiring even if she was glad to do it. And if she got to show off her boyfriend in the process, all the better. Let it not be said that she was a loner any longer.


	28. Chapter 28

Amy's father called and informed her she was expected at Cecile's house for Christmas dinner. Her and her mother would be there, and she was pleasant enough at Thanksgiving she could be pleasant again. Pleasant. Right. That was not how she recalled the evening. It was torture. However, she felt obligated to accept. Mark and Jenna would be thrilled by their aunt coming over and she found presents for the both of them a month ago. There would be no better time to deliver them and see if she choose correctly, though she suspected they would like what she got them.

It was too soon to invite Dave. They might love each other and coitus was now a part of her life, but she doubted the relationship as it stood was strong enough to withstand her mother's interference. Plus, it would be odd to have a new boyfriend around for a close family holiday.

Her guilt was assuaged when one of Dave's colleagues, who he now met up with outside of work occasionally, invited him over for Christmas. He would not be alone and she would not feel bad about either leaving him alone or subjecting him to her family.

When she got to Cecile's house, she greeted Cecile and her husband, ironically Amy's blood cousin though one she got along with far less well than Cecile. She might be popular now but she could never really forgive her cousin for embarrassing her by using the money her mom paid him to take her to prom to buy drugs. She never did manage to forget the sting of the humiliation for showing up alone and unwanted to her prom, especially after telling people she would be bringing a date. She failed to mention it could be considered semi-incestuous. Yet as teenagers did, they found out the intended 'date' was actually her cousin, and even he couldn't be bothered to attend prom with her when paid. She was teased mercilessly all through her senior year of high school for it.

Mark and Jenna greeted her enthusiastically, though their delight at having their aunt over for Christmas dinner quickly transferred to the presents she got them.

"A chemistry set!" Jenna exclaimed when she opened her present.

"Ames, are you trying to turn my daughter into a scientist too?" Cecile gently scolded.

Amy brushed the comment aside. There was nothing wrong with being a scientist. It was a lofty profession and one she felt her family often under appreciated.

"I'm not trying to turn her into anything," Amy said diplomatically, "I just thought she would like it." Jenna did. When she took Jenna and Mark to the zoo, she noticed the older girl's interest in reading all the signs and the methodical nature of her questions. Given enough time and support, she had the potential to be a scientist as well, something Amy would encourage in any of her relations. She collected more evidence at Thanksgiving when Jenna displayed her aptitude for experimentation with the aerodynamics of paper airplanes.

"I love it. This is the best present ever," Jenna enthused, giving her a hug. "How did you know I wanted this?" she asked.

Amy hadn't known. Not really. She just had a suspicion, and when she saw the chemistry set a month earlier she bought it on impulse, suspecting Jenna would like it. It was nice to know she was right.

"Just a suspicion," Amy said. That, and while they were at the zoo Jenna asked a fair amount of questions about her work as a scientist, and while Amy tried to answer them in a way the young girl could understand, she felt she did a decent job.

"I can also take you on a tour of my lab, if you'd like. Maybe you could even help me out for the day," glancing a Cecile who had her lips pressed into a thin line, "if your parents agree."

"Please, mom, may I?" Jenna asked, "It would be the best Christmas present ever," she begged.

Cecile sighed. "I won't hear the end of this if I say no, will I?" She addressed her husband though Jenna provided her own answer, oblivious to the fact the question was not directed at her.

"Very well. You may go. Heavens, Ames, who'd of thought you'd turn my daughter into a scientist."

"I didn't turn her into anything. I observed what was already there and . . . never mind." Amy dropped her argument when it appeared Cecile was not listening.

Mark opened his present next. For Mark she got a lego set, something that he was, perhaps, a bit too young for. He was younger than the recommended age on the lego box. However, give him a year at the most and he would grow into it. Besides, little boys liked legos, or so she assumed. She did not really know what little boy's liked but from the grown up men she knew who still played with legos, she hoped her present would be well received.

It was, though Cecile was once again less than thrilled with her choice. With all the small pieces, Amy should have thought of the mess it would inevitably create. That was Cecile's problem, not hers. She got to be the indulgent aunt who played with them and gave them presents. She liked that arrangement.

Christmas became noticeably less pleasant when her parents arrived with her great aunt Flora. Cecile and her cousin's parents arrived at around the same time as well. The seven new guests put a strain on the conversation. Luckily, though the better word should be regrettably, the rest of their family was all dead of carbon monoxide poisoning from her other cousin's wedding. There would be no more people who would show up.

As was apparently her inclination, she seated herself on the floor beside the children and played with them. She guided Jenna through some of the more basic chemistry experiments, though as she whizzed straight through them, Amy advanced her onto the more intricate experiments, worried that Jenna would exhaust the extents of her kit in far less time than Amy planned. Much to Amy's amusement and Cecile's chagrin, Jenna became fascinated by the separation of colored washable markers in solutes. With an ample supply of coffee filters from the kitchen, Jenna no longer required Amy's assistance as she went to work meticulously cutting the filters into strips and then searching the house for any type of liquid she could find. Anything from water, lemon juice, rubbing alcohol, milk, hydrogen peroxide, and clorox were found and used. Cecile's lips became increasing thin as she watched the mess Jenna created, but it was done over the tile floor that was easy to clean up. She only relented when Amy volunteered to do the clean up. As far as she was concerned, a bit of a mess was nothing compared to allowing a child's scientific curiosity to bloom.

Though legos were not her favorite, she helped Mark with his construction. It was a weak attempt and looked shabby but he had a lot of fun and liked that his aunt Amy was helping. She wondered if Mark would have a career as an architect someday. He had fun building his own structures regardless of the pictures on the box and the instruction manual inside seemed to dictate he do. Then again, he was young. His interests would likely manifest themselves later.

As she checked Jenna's progress, she was surprised to find her niece was already beyond the scope of the kit, using the equipment to design her own experiment. Later, she would have to find a way to talk Cecile into putting Jenna into a science camp or get her advanced in school. In Amy's opinion, brilliant minds should not be put to waste and should be encouraged. She could help Jenna have access to science the way she did not as a child.

"So, Amy, your mom tells me you broke up with Sheldon," Cecile said.

Amy frowned. Served her right for occupying the children, giving her mother the opportunity to blindside her.

"That was a while back. I'm seeing someone else now."

"Would you like to talk about what happened?"

"No, I wouldn't," Amy said. "I've moved on." That was true. "As I said, there's someone else. He's British."

She gave that juicy detail away to make Cecile jealous and it worked. After all, her cousin's Californian accent could not compete with a British accent and she knew it. She had the better catch, even if it came about later in her life.

"Well, I'm happy for you. Maybe you can bring him by sometime."

"It's still kind of new," Amy admitted.

That's when her mother looked at her. Really looked at her. Amy knew there was going to be trouble.

"I knew it," Mrs Fowler declared.

"Honey, why don't you leave her alone," Mr Fowler tried to intervene, knowing very well that Amy only showed up because of his insistence and had not yet forgiven her mother for the blind date debacle and the ensuing argument.

"I will not. How can you not care that our daughter is giving away the milk away for free?"

"What milk?" Mark asked innocently.

"The two percent milk Amy buys from the grocery store. Isn't that right, Ames?" Cecile said.

"Yes. Right. Two percent milk," Amy agreed.

"Why would you give milk away for free, Auntie Amy?" Mark asked. He could be persistent.

Amy wanted to hide in embarrassment. "Umm," Amy said, searching for a lie she could use. She was not a good liar.

"How come you don't charge people? Like the lemonade stand Jenna and I had. We made three dollars," he said proudly.

Why couldn't the young boy just let it go. She had no reasonable explanation. None.

"Umm," Amy repeated.

Cecile glared at Mr and Mrs Fowler, for once on Amy's side. "Mark, Jenna, let's go play outside," Cecile's mother started. There was a tense silence in the room as Cecile's parents escorted the young children out.

Amy felt the embarrassment hitting her full force. She did not look any different. She looked in the mirror before she left her apartment. Yet somehow her mother knew. Her mother always knew.

Now it was her parents, Cecile and her cousin, and her aunt and uncle still in the room. Aunt Flora was in the den napping. It was embarrassing to be called out on her personal life in front of that many people, but then again, what did she care? She was glad to no longer be a virgin. At her age it was pathetic. She was a woman by society's standards, now both in age and experience. She could own her actions. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

"It's none of your business what I do, mother," Amy started.

"Or who," Cecile snidely commented, though it was more suggestive than accusatory. So much for the woman being on her side.

"In fact, it's none of your concern. Yes I have a boyfriend and yes we sleep together. I don't owe any of you an explanation," she fumed.

She seemed to do that a lot lately.

"You know, this really seems to be a conversation for mother and daughter," her uncle said. Amy was glad he managed to usher everyone except her parents out into the backyard as well, presumably to see his grandchildren though everyone knew it was to give her alone time with Mr and Mrs Fowler. Her father managed to excuse himself as well. Coward.

Left alone with her mother, she stood to her full height, looming over the frail looking woman, yet no matter that she was in the dominant position, she was still the child and she felt like one.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Amy," her mother finally said.

"I do. I have friends and a boyfriend who can give me the affection I never got from you growing up and you know what, I like it that way," Amy said.

Mrs Fowler sighed. "I just want what's best for you," she said.

Amy knew she was a disappointment to her mother, more so in recent years. She followed the path laid out for her by her mother, having no friends or boyfriends and being extremely unpopular all throughout her education, and remaining that way into her career as a neurobiologist, something her mother did not support but reluctantly accepted. She knew she was a disappointment for not dating, yet with the way her mother raised her, what else could she expect? She didn't always have boys lining up at her door and in her apartment. That was a more recent trend. Then she got a boyfriend and was still somehow a disappointment. Broke up with said boyfriend and was a disappointment for being alone and unmarried, found a new boyfriend and exactly as expected, was still a disappointment. There was nothing she could do to make her mother happy and she was done trying. Her family was no longer her only source of human companionship. She had close friends and a boyfriend. She could fill the loneliness in other ways now.

"Have you ever thought that I know what's best for me?" Amy asked.

Mrs Fowler opened her mouth to object. "I thought so," Amy said bitterly.

She joined the others outside as well. She did not speak to her mother for the rest of the day and Mrs Fowler avoided her as well. Her familial obligations fulfilled for the year, she left early, but first set up a time to tour Jenna around her lab before school was back in session.

* * *

To the guest reviewers I can't respond to personally:

Guest 1: Patience. Dave has the potential to be a great guy.

Francine: Sometimes love isn't being together. It's loving the other person enough to let them go when there is no suitable compromise that can be reached without having to sacrifice the needs of one or the other, as is the case here. To me, that is a very romantic gesture. If they did compromise, it would have to go one way or the other. Either Amy gives up the short time remaining she has left to have her own biological children, or Sheldon is distracted by his personal life. Even without children, Sheldon is unlikely to win the Nobel Prize. As with most things in life, Nobel Prizes are part being the best in one's field and doing groundbreaking work that is highly cited and changes the field, but it is also about networking and connections. That is likely why Nobel Laureates frequently know past Nobel Laureates; I worked for a PI, an amazing, inspirational person, who has a Nobel Prize, and whose doctoral advisor was one of the most famous Nobel Laureates ever. If Sheldon does give into Amy and have children and then as is most likely never get a Nobel Prize, he'll wind up blaming her and the children. No matter which of them sacrifices, as a couple they loose out. Loving each other means letting the other go to do what is best for them.

Guest 2: Thank you for the positive vibes! With how stressful real life is now, your review made me smile. I needed that. Even though in the show Amy and Sheldon are younger than Mayim and Jim, it's time for them to think about children if they want to have them, though that is a heavy topic for a sitcom. That fun angst is left for us fanfic writers! I agree with you that 'soulmate' love isn't always enough. In fact, I find it very interesting that globally, arranged marriages end in divorce a lot less frequently than love matches.


	29. Chapter 29

"Howie wants us to go to the New Years party at the comic book store," Bernadette said both glumly and indulgently.

"Yeah. So does Leonard," Penny said.

Amy had not heard about a New Years Eve party at the comic book store, but neither did she have any reason to go. The only reason she ever went to the comic book store was under duress, or to avoid incessant badgering. There was no longer a reason to go. Though she did want to spend the evening with her friends, neither did she want to go to the comic books store. Someone else would certainly be going as well and after everything, it did not seem like a good idea for her to go.

"You should come with us, Amy," Penny pleaded, as if by making Amy miserable as well she could feel happier.

"Can't. I already have plans," Amy said. Dave's colleagues invited him to a New Years Eve party and she was considering going with him. It sounded better than the comic book store though she would miss celebrating the holiday with her two closest friends.

"We'll miss you, Amy," Penny said.

Amy rolled her eyes. Of course Penny would miss her. That much was a given.

"Don't be needy bestie."

What Amy did not say was that she would miss seeing them on New Years Eve as well. While it was her choice not to go to a party she wouldn't enjoy, it still left a sour taste in her mouth to be left out.

She could cheer herself up by remembering she would not be alone on New Years. And she would get a kiss at midnight. She had no doubt of that. The kiss would be in public, in front of people. She was looking forward to it.

Dave brought her back to his house after the party for them to ring in the New Year, a tradition she embraced wholeheartedly. It seemed to her more nights than not they spent together, either at his place or hers. When they did not spend the night together, they texted almost relentlessly, a fact that caused Penny to smirk and make suggestive comments, but for whatever reason whenever Amy attempted to read the texts aloud to her, particularly the steamier ones, Penny abruptly cut her off and changed the topic. Fungus seemed to be a popular conversation topic with her blonde best friend as of late. It was an interesting correlation.

Despite the fact that she and Dave had not known each other for long and only started dating rather recently, she felt comfortable with him. Their routines meshed easily, though not without any conflict. However, any arguments that inevitably arose were quickly settled.

By the time Valentines day came around, Amy felt giddy that Dave went to the effort of planning a date for them. She did not have to hint, nag, or force him into it. In fact, when she first brought up the topic he admitted he already had their date planned. It was going to be a surprise for her and she let the subject drop.

Rather than going to a romantic restaurant, he took her to the beach. He had a picnic prepared and in the middle of February, it was freezing outside. Dave brought blankets for them to bundle up in, and neither of them felt the need to swim in the freezing cold water. The reflection of the moon on the water and the scent of the ocean air was calming. A ways down the beach, there were people with a bonfire going, though they were far enough away only a hint of their talking was carried on the wind.

The sand easily held their glasses of wine upright, Cabernet Sauvignon for him and Moscato for her, and Amy was able to relax. Occasionally, sprays of mist would reach them but wrapped up in the blankets they remained dry.

"This is wonderful, Dave. Thank you," Amy said.

Dave kissed her. "My pleasure," he said. She cuddled up into him, listening to his heart beat, a sound not at all in tune with the crashing waves against the shore.

They could talk for hours and not get bored or they could sit in silence. Both were equally comfortable and enjoyable.

By the time they left, she felt groggy as she stumbled her way through the sand, heels in tow. Perhaps the sand ruined the dress she bought for the occasion but she could not bring herself to care. It was a good night. A good date. Romantic in the typical sense, the way that when she told Penny and Bernadette about her Valentines day later they would be able to swoon over it with her.

Although they'd made plans back in January, it wasn't until the middle of March when Amy finally had the opportunity to take Jenna to her lab. She intended to show her around before school was back in session but Jenna ended up sick and had to cancel. Now it was spring break, she offered to take on her niece for the entire week, as long as she was interested and would behave herself.

When Amy went to pick Jenna up, Mark became exceedingly jealous that his older sister got to do something with his aunt Amy that he didn't. When Amy tried to explain to him that they were going to her lab and she would be working—the children could observe but they would have to entertain themselves—Mark still did not loose interest. That was, he remained adamant that he wanted to go until Cecile intervened and offered to take him the the lego store. After Amy's Christmas present to him, his desire to design his own lego creations was insatiable, and Cecile finally gave in. As long as Mark did not leave the tiny lego pieces scattered around her house, he could play with legos. With a vastly more fun alternative, Mark easily gave up his insistence on accompanying them.

"Thank you, Auntie Amy," Jenna said once they were in the car on her way to work. While the school aged children might be on break, she wasn't. Research never stopped. It was a good thing she loved her research.

"It's my pleasure," Amy said, "I think it's great that you're interested in science."

"Mom doesn't understand," Cecile complained, and while Amy would not disparage Cecile to her daughter, she did agree. Cecile reluctantly supported Jenna's science experiments, though Amy knew Cecile would prefer if Jenna engaged in more typical childhood hobbies such as sports or voice lessons.

"I know what you're feeling. My mother didn't really get my interest in science. But that's alright. I'm a neurobiologist now."

Amy briefly toured Jenna around Caltech. She gave brief stories behind some of the buildings and then escorted her to her lab. Jenna looked around in awe, and while Amy intended to get to work straight away, she found herself instead explaining what some of the various pieces of equipment and chemicals were used for.

In order to have time to work, Amy eventually put Jenna to work washing the glassware, but only after first showing her how to properly clean and dry them. Amy half expected to need to rewash the glassware—Jenna was only six after all—but the young girl followed her instructions surprisingly well and there were only a handful of pieces Amy asked her to rewash. The second time, all of them were perfect.

Jenna plugged her nose at the stench of formaldehyde. Amy laughed. She well remembered her initial reaction to the pungent smell, but over time she grew accustomed to it. To Jenna's credit, she soon joined Amy putting on gloves and standing over the dissection tray. While Amy worked, she pointed out the different sections of the brain. Jenna listened with rapt attention, often asking questions that slowed down Amy's work but she did not really mind.

"Can I try?" Jenna eventually asked. A lot of time and grant money went into collecting each and every one of the brains. She did not want to risk a single one of them being put to waste. However, neither did she want to discourage the young girl's eagerness. She took the sections of interest for her study and once they were separate, she handed the scalpel over and told Jenna which of the remaining sections to dissect.

The cuts were a bit clumsy, but that was to be expected given her not yet fully developed motor skills. It was decent work, though not of a good enough quality for her to use. However, it did give the younger girl a lot of joy to be able to participate. Amy supervised her as she used the sharp sample while she began the process of setting up the slides and staining them for observation under the two photon microscope.

She took Jenna to eat lunch while she left the dye to sit on the samples.

Just as they were about to leave, Amy spotted Leonard arriving. He was unusually late, but knowing where Leonard went his friends closely followed, she hurried Jenna away.

Jenna had such a good time that first day she Amy took her back every day for the rest of the week. Cecile was grateful to her for taking one kid off her hands and keeping her occupied during break, but Amy was happy to do it. The time she lost explaining what she was working on she made up with assigning Jenna the simple tasks, such as washing the glassware, that she could do on her own.

When it was time for Jenna to go back to school, Amy was going to miss her young assistant. However, she was looking forward to going out on another date.

"And how has your week been?" Dave asked.

"Good," she said, "my six-year-old cousin was on break so I toured her around my lab. She loved it," Amy said.

"That's great," Dave replied and that began a conversation of how to interest children in science, but Amy only picked up on a preexisting interest. Nothing more. What happened would be entirely up to Jenna.


	30. Chapter 30

Even months later it was still hard to get it out of her mind. That thrill. The exhilaration. The way the temporary fear could make her reevaluate everything and find out what really mattered.

She was happy with the way her life, personal and professional, was progressing. She was back on course, no longer on the verge of self-destruction. The memories plagued her incessantly.

She wanted it back. The wrenching pain in her stomach and the exultant nagging in her mind as she defied her better judgement. She wanted the clarity and the blood rush. Most of all, she wanted the thrill without the toxicity.

Penny and Bernadette helped bring her back to herself. They calmed her of her temporary insanity and delayed teenage rebellion. But she no longer hurt. Not the way she had then. With a clearer mind, she wanted the thrill not as payback and not to be irresponsible but for herself, out of a need to know what she was capable of.

"Dave?" she ventured one evening as they laid in her bed. Head to toe his feet hung off the edge of the mattress but he did not complain. However, she did notice that over the last couple of months the ratio of nights spent at his house, with his custom made bed large enough to accommodate his entire length comfortably, to her apartment steadily increased.

"Amy?" he returned, his voice sluggish and peaceful. Sleepy.

"I've been thinking we should take a trip together."

She considered asking Penny and Bernadette. Penny would love her plan, and Bernadette would go along with them, and yet when she thought about who she'd rather go with, it was Dave her mind conjured. Dave her mind sought out. No one else.

"Hmm," he said, waiting for more information.

"How do you feel about Vernal?"

She thoroughly researched the topic and the logistics before broaching the subject with Dave.

"Vernal?" Dave asked, and it occurred to Amy that he did not even know where she was talking about.

"Utah," Amy clarified. "I want to go white river rafting."

That caught Dave's attention enough to wake him up. "You want to go white river rafting?"

His confusion did not surprise her in the least. She preferred museums to the outdoors, historical and cultural activities to physical exertion, and yet her usual activities would not satisfy that craving for more. To be more.

"Yes," Amy answered. "Would you like to go?"

With or without him, she already decided she was going. She spent enough of her life alone to not be afraid to do what she needed to, but that she would prefer company was undeniable.

"Alright then," Dave agreed.

Amy could not tell whether he was excited or not about the prospect of the trip, but with his agreement, she could not lie still a moment longer. It may be early in the morning—a potential cause for his lack of enthusiasm—but she needed to get out of bed. She booked the hotel and tour guides right away, managing to find space in only a couple of weeks. They would go during the summer semester which meant that she and Dave could more easily take their vacation days.

"I can't believe you're going white water rafting without me," Penny complained when she told her plans to her friends.

"Sorry, Penny," Amy said, "this is a me and Dave thing." Maybe sometime later she would be happy to have Penny along, but for now she just wanted Dave.

"Maybe we could do something fun that weekend as well?" Leonard suggested in an attempt to please Penny.

"You want to go white river rafting?" Penny asked incredulously, and Amy agreed with her assessment. Leonard did not deal well with the outdoors.

"We could go to the _Star Trek_ convention," Leonard said.

Penny rolled her eyes. "It's in Vegas," Leonard added.

That caught Penny's attention. Leonard's idea wasn't half bad. She could enjoy Vegas and he could enjoy the convention and in a way they could be on a couple's trip.

"And by we you mean you," Penny corrected him. "You know, that idea isn't all that bad. I'll ask Bernadette."

Bernadette, unsurprisingly, was eager to go to Vegas as well, which worked out in Leonard's favor as he and Howard could go to the convention together.

As the rest of her friends made plans for their own vacation, Amy did not feel the least bit left out. She had her own trip to look forward to.

Rather than spend two full days on the road, she and Dave flew into Salt Lake City and rented a car to complete the last portion of their trip. By the time they checked into their hotel, they were in agreement that they would order room service and go straight to sleep.

Dave had to curl up a bit awkwardly to fit into the short hotel bed. "Are you alright sleeping like that?" Amy asked with some concern. After a full day traveling, it could not be comfortable for him to remain cramped up.

"I'll be alright," Dave assured her.

It was hard to quash the worry, though exhausted as she was, sleep came easily.

They woke up early the next morning to prepare for their trip, four days on the river.

They stuffed everything they would need into the two dry sacks Amy purchased for the trip. They were paired up with a guide and another couple who would go on the raft with them.

Amy listened intently to the safety lecture, and Dave did as well.

"You sure you want to do this?" Dave asked as they adjusted their life jackets and helmets, following the guide's instructions.

What did he want to hear? That she wanted to back out and not go. They could fly back to California but where would that leave her? She wanted to go.

"Absolutely," Amy confirmed. The nerves in her stomach were no longer unexpected and rather than fearing them she embraced them.

From above, the river did not look threatening. The murky water appeared to flow lazily, if swiftly, down stream, a constant rumble in the air.

"Good. Me too." Dave appeared to have the same mix of eagerness and anticipation as she did.

Neither of them had done this before. It was a strange new adventure for them both, but that did not necessarily make it bad.

With the guide and the preparations for the trip taken care of by the outfitter, there was little she and Dave had to worry about beyond following the guide's instructions. They seemed easy enough. Paddle forward or backward as instructed, always wear the life jacket and helmet, and in case they fell out, float on their back and point their legs downstream and don't attempt to stand up.

The rules and guidelines were what her previous adventures lacked. With the slight strictures and the assurance that the guide was an experienced professional, Amy felt more confident. Ready to embrace the thrill while more secure in the knowledge of her safety.

Although it was the beginning of summer, the river water was shockingly cold was the pulled the raft out into the river and jumped in.

She felt almost like a whale in the bulky life jacket, the sun beating down upon her. It was good she thought to bring extra sunscreen in addition to the bottle of water.

"This first part is pretty tame," the guide explained to them as they started out. The did a few practice paddles forwards and backwards, just to become used to listening to the instructions.

With her and Dave sitting upfront, they had an unobstructed view of the scenery. They passed by the outskirts of the city, and while they slowly drifted, occasionally told when to paddle, the building somehow passed rapidly by.

"Where are you folks from?" the guide asked.

The other couple was from Montana. They'd been rafting before, though not enough to feel comfortable on their own.

"We're from LA," Amy answered for herself and Dave.

"Yes. First time doing this," Dave added.

They were told they would enjoy themselves.

Amy simply felt relaxed. She sought out a thrill and instead, the gentle rocking motion of the raft was soothing.

It did not remain soothing forever, or even for that long. The speed of the water began to pick up and up ahead Amy could see the beginning of the white water rapids.

The roar of the water grew stronger as they approached, never quite growing into a thunder but still noticeably louder.

Amy responded to the order of "All forward."

The boat underneath her grew bumpier, going up and down with the motion of the water. Sprays played at the forefront of her clothing. The mist became a torrent.

"Right back." Amy paddled forward while the other side of paddled backwards, turning the raft to the right.

The sprays of water turned into a wave, dousing her with the freezing water. For a moment she wondered if she was going to fall out of the raft and become fodder for the current but in a split second it was over and they were through the first rapid.

The sharp plummet and the wave, when she turned back around to see, appeared small an innocuous.

She turned to Dave, grinning. He was just as drenched as she was, the two of them having taken the majority of the dousing from the wave.

The trip continued in that fashion. Sections of calm waters and then sections of white water, but the calm water sections were short and far between. The thrill from the heaving up and down did not diminish with repetition but rather became greater. The biting splash of the cold water became normal as her entire body became numb from the progressive soaking.

By the time they stopped for lunch, Amy was grinning brightly.

They met up with the rest of the tour group as the supply raft was the last one to pull up alongside them. Weighed down as it was the cargo, it travelled slower than the rest.

"I'm glad you wanted to do this," Dave said to Amy as they ate their sandwiches.

"Me too," Amy agreed. Although Dave agreed to her scheme, a part of her worried he would dislike it once they got there. Hell, she was worried she'd dislike it as well.

So far, it was fun. And different. Very different from what they normally did. The change was refreshing.

After lunch, the group dispersed back into their individual rafts. Amy and Dave took their turn in the middle of the raft while the other couple sat in the front.

"The rest of today is class one," their guide told them.

Class one meant an easy float. After the excitement in the morning, Amy was alright with tame.

One benefit was that now they were past all signs of civilization and the water was smooth, their guide told them about the land.

Not particularly interested in geology, Amy and Dave listened to information about the rock formations they could see from the river. As the information turned from geology to erosion and the introduction of invasive species into the environment, Amy was on much more even ground.

The guide sounded surprised when Amy contributed as well.

"I'm a neurobiologist," Amy explained. She was well informed on many subjects, especially involving those related to biology.

By mid afternoon, they reached their intended camp sight for the night.

Forming a fireman's line, the entire group helped unload the needed items from the supply raft. Some of the dry sacks they passed were surprisingly heavy. Amy and Dave claimed their items and retreated to find a spot.

While they both had PhDs and were employed by universities, one problem became strikingly clear; while the others in the group started pitching their tents, Amy and Dave had no idea where to begin.

By studying the others, Amy observed they first cleared their sandy spots of rocks and sticks and then laid down the tarp. She and Dave combed the sand until it was clear, but as they laid down the tarp and unloaded the the tent from the bag, they both stared at the pieces.

She'd never been camping before and neither had Dave. "Any idea what to do?" Amy asked. Even observing the other people in the group did not help. She should have researched their trip more thoroughly. Now, although she checked her cell phone to see if she could find an instructional video, she had no service. Without an outlet, her phone would be dead before the trip was up anyways. She turned it off.

"One minute," Dave said. He joined the couple they'd spent the day with and talked to them for a minute. The woman soon accompanied him over. "I brought help," he said dryly.

The woman showed them how to assemble the tent poles and lay out the tent. It took them two tries but Amy and Dave finally did a respectable job. The only thing left was to put down the stakes.

Painfully aware of her lack of upper body strength, Amy's face was bright red from exertion by the time she finally put one stake in. In that time, Dave did the other three.

"Thanks again," Amy told the woman, immensely grateful for her help. "Could you remind me of your name again?" Amy asked, feeling horrible. She knew it must have been mentioned earlier that day yet wrapped up as she was in the unknown, he brain decided not to store that information.

"Joan. You're Amy and Dave right?"

"That's right."

"After you finish setting up, why don't the two of you come join us for a beer," Joan offered.

Amy looked towards Dave to see if he was amenable. He was. He told her so.

They set up their sleeping bags. Having only a little bit of extra room in the dry sacs after the necessary items—sleeping bags, the most bare bones of toiletries, and some additional snacks—were added, she did not have a change of clothes. There was not enough space. So although she did not want to continue wearing her quick-dry clothes from the day on the river, she had no other alternative. If she was going to be gross, at least everyone else was in the same position.

She really had not thought the trip through. Too late to back out now. Besides, she didn't want to. It was fun, in a more muted way.

Dave grasped her hand as they joined Joan and her husband. Looking out over the river as the sun set, it was deceptively calm. Amy took a sip of beer. There was a reason she did not drink beer often. It did not taste as good as her usual fruity cocktails or wine, but it would do the trick nicely. A drink to relax.

"If it's not too nosey of me, you're British right?" Joan asked Dave.

"I am," he said.

"Good first day for both of you?" Joan recalled that they were both new to rafting.

"It was," Amy said. "I really liked it."

"Me too," Dave agreed.

Joan laughed. "Of course you did. There's nothing better than being out here." She took a sip of her beer and then settled it into the sand.

"It's nice to get away you know."

"Not really. I'm more of an indoor person," Amy admitted. Aside from a handful of ill thought out experiences, she had never really been in the outdoors at all. Not the wilderness outdoors in any case.

"As am I," Dave agreed.

"Just you wait. You'll be hooked," Joan said.

"Maybe," Dave said skeptically. "I could really use a shower."

"River's right there," Joan pointed out.

Amy and Dave exchanged a look to see if she was serious or not. The river was the smell they wanted to shower off, to say nothing of the silt and the sand that came with the river.

"Don't worry. You won't even notice eventually."

Amy highly doubted that. She liked being clean thank you very much. She also preferred smelling good. Not like sweat and mud. It was a good thing she and Dave were already very close or it would be embarrassing to be on this trip with him gross as she felt at the moment.

The guides prepared their dinner and they joined the circle to eat. For the most part, Amy and Dave were content to remain quiet and the conversation followed them.

"Ready to go to bed?" Dave asked Amy.

"I'm enjoying the fire," she said, not looking at him. The flames entranced her.

She'd never seen a real campfire before and although they did not have smores or even marshmallows, there was something entrancing about listening to the crackle of the wood and see the plume of smoke rising into the air in this uncontrolled environment. It was nothing like an indoor fireplace.

"Me too." No more words were needed. It was not that late at night but the day full of physical exertion tired them out. Dave scooted closer to her. He curled his arm around her torso, and Amy tried not to recoil at the sand that caked onto his arm.

Everywhere was surrounded by itchy sand.

She leaned into him. She did not notice but as night came, so too did a chill settle into the air. Were it not for Dave's body heat and the fire she would be shivering.

"You alright?" Dave asked after awhile, the two words slurring into one.

"I'm fine. You?"

"Good. I'm going to go to bed soon," he commented.

The fire was dying down and the guides were letting it, no longer replacing the fire. They would wait for it to die out but it was no longer giving off much warmth.

"I'll join you," Amy said, standing when Dave did.

Her plans to perform her evening ablutions were quickly remedied. Even with her flashlight she determined it would be too difficult to wash her face. She only brushed her teeth. It felt weird to use her water bottle and not a faucet as her source of water, and weirder still to spit the minty sodium bicarbonate mixture onto the ground instead of into a sink. Her entire life trained to act one way, and now none of those rules applied.

"I feel like a rebel," Amy commented after spitting.

Amy settled into her sleeping bag. It was much more constricting than her bed and it was odd to not have Dave nestled up against her even though he was only a foot away in his own sleeping bag. The sleeping bag, cold from the night air, gradually warmed with her body heat. Eventually, she was warm enough to fall asleep.

More prepared for the second day, Amy and Dave knew the drill when it came time to put out onto the river.

Amy and Dave's new found confidence must have been apparent when the guide asked, "How do you feel about surfing."

"We're down," Joan eagerly agreed.

Amy and Dave were confused.

"But this isn't an ocean," Dave decided to state the obvious.

"Forward left," the guide said. "See that rapid up ahead."

"Yes."

"If we hit it just right, we'll stay there. Everyone here can swim right."

"Let's go for it," Amy said. She could swim. Dave could. Joan and her husband could as well. After all, it had to be less scary that going straight through it.

She and Dave followed the instructions, and when they were told to paddle forward, she pulled with all her might.

She looked up when they were told to stop. The raft was floating there.

No. Not floating. Jostling. She could feel the heartbeat of the river pulsing beneath the raft, the exact position in the river keeping them from going upstream or downstream.

Constantly the rapid splashed them. So this was surfing.

"How do we get out of this?" Amy finally asked.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now she had to reevaluate the scariness factor. Cool though it was to remain there while the river rushed around them, she could feel the power of the water. One wrong move and it would claim her in it's grasp.

Her heart raced at the thought as she began to calculate everything that could happen, and especially drowning. Because no matter how strong a swimmer they all were, a stroke of bad luck and the current could be even stronger. It was a force no man or woman could fight.

The guide directed them to turn the raft and then to paddle forward. At the front, Amy felt it dip below her.

Dave scrambled towards the back but she was not so quick.

Even standing up in the raft she was submerged to her hips. Panic overwhelmed her. This was how she was going to die.

Not good. Not good at all.

Instinctively her hands gripped at the rope on the raft, holding on for all she was worth. She would not let go. If she did the water would sweep her away and she would be forced to swim. She didn't want to swim. Not like this. Not in this section of rapids. If she did fall out her life jacket would keep her afloat. In her panic she did not think of that at all.

The sheer power surrounded her, and struggle though she might, she was entirely reliant on the others in the raft to get them out of this.

She hated being helpless.

She popped back out of the water, nearly loosing her balance as the water drained from the raft.

Dave returned to his spot next to her.

They were past it, the water calm again. On instinct she kissed him. Their helmets collided and his lips were covered in salt. Hers were too she imagined.

She pulled away, her face alight with laugher. The terror receded as quickly as it came, and in it's wake it left euphoria.

That was the thrill she sought. She couldn't help but laugh aloud then, tossing her head up to the sky. The sun was blinding but it didn't matter. Nothing did except the pounding in her chest and the tingling in her limbs. She was alive.

She kissed him again, and Amy was sure she was a spectacle to everyone though they did not comment. Did not mind.

They drifted down the river, talking once more. Of surfing. Of nearly flipping the raft over. And it was glorious, the solidarity built upon a shared experience. They might not all be friends but they were bound together in an inexplicable fashion.

They did not get a lunch break that day, instead eating cliff bars on a calmer section of the river. She felt gross eating without washing her hands.

Sand and silt clung to her body and caked her hair. Nothing but a good long shower would get it all out.

She was sure she looked hideous, covered in grime and smelling as bad as she did, and yet Dave was not repulsed by her. Quite the opposite. He kissed her. He held her hand. He found reasons to brush subtle touches over her arms and back.

She could feel his attraction and it was empowering. To be desired when she was at her grossest.

The group gathered and beached their rafts. Following the guides they hiked a short ways over the uneven terrain.

It was clear from the brush covered path that people occasionally walked there, though the purpose Amy did not know to be scouting until they crested a ridge high enough to look down the next mile of the river.

Even from above the rapids were furious and high.

The guides conferred amongst themselves and then told the group the plan to navigate the river, but most important of all were the instructions were to keep paddling no matter what happened. If the raft was thrown off course keep paddling anyways.

If thrown from the raft, she was to point her feet down river and let the current take her, using her hands to steer and her feet to keep her body from crashing into the rocks. Given the tensile strength of the human leg and the velocity of the current, she was not certain the human body could handle such a crash without shattering the leg bones.

She gulped and turned to Dave. She was gratified to notice he appeared apprehensive as well. That made her feel just a bit better. Not much.

His hands found hers. "No backing down now," he told her.

They couldn't go back up the river. The only way left to go was through.

"Nope," she agreed. The sun was hot yet she felt a chill of uncertainty.

"Let's do this," Dave encouraged her.

"Yes," she agreed.

They returned to the raft and once everyone was settled, they began. The stretch looked long, yet as they got caught up in the current, the speed and intensity, the water splashing in her eyes and blinding her, drowned everything out.

She could not tell how far, or not far, they'd gone. All she needed to do was respond to the guide's direction how to paddle and to keep herself firmly planted in the raft. Anything beyond that was entirely out of her control.

She did not have time to worry about that which she could not do, and all thoughts fled her head that were not immediately grounded in her present reality.

Suddenly all was calm again. She rubbed the moisture from her eyes and looked towards the calm stretch of river in front of them, and then back to the rapids behind. The long section they scouted out was behind them. It could have taken them seconds or minutes to run the stretch of river and she would not have known the difference. Without her watch, she could not know the difference.

Scared though she was, Amy was disappointed to know that for the last day there would be no more big rapids. That was the last of it. From there on out it would be a gentle float till their take out point.

Amy and Dave were quicker at setting up their tent the second night.

However, as they laid down on the ground, Amy felt the soreness accumulating. Without the comfort of a bed, and only the hard ground to sleep on—the thin camping mat did little for their comfort—her body felt the aches more acutely. Her muscles did not relax fully and she was left to endure the cramping.

"I miss my bed," she whined to Dave.

"I'm sore," Dave complained in return.

Joined in her discomfort, she did not feel even the slightest bit better. Company didn't comfort misery.

"There's a rock in my back," Amy commented. Try though she might to find a way to sleep around it, it simply did not work. She thought they cleared the space well but they must have missed something.

"If it makes you feel better there's a stick poking at my leg."

It didn't make her feel better but she appreciated the sentiment.

"When we get back, the first thing I'm going to do is shower and sleep." The smell, the aches, and the discomfort were cumulatively getting to her.

However, on the third morning the strangest thing happened to her. She no longer noticed the smell. Not her. Not Dave. Nor from anyone else on their trip.

She preferred her nose adjusted.

As promised, the third day was a leisurely float. The river widened out and they stayed away from the shallows.

At their lunch spot, the guide pointed out an eddy.

Amy and Dave watched as two children from a different raft entertained themselves by letting the eddy float them upstream before scrambling onto land to run down and repeat the process.

"That looks kinda fun," Amy commented. Still both in their life jackets, Dave surprised her by picking her up.

"Put me down," Amy protested, though her protest was weak.

"Not a chance." He stood in the shallows and dumped her into the eddy.

Spluttering in indignation, Amy resurface for air and allowed the water to pull her upstream. It was a novel sensation and it brought a smile to her lips.

She climbed out at the upper portion as she watched the children do. "I hate you," she accused Dave. He shrugged with an entirely innocent look on his face.

"You love me," he protested.

Amy looked down at her feet. Though she told him she loved him numerous times already, it sounded different coming from him. More real. His confidence in her feelings was alluring.

It should be scary yet it wasn't. She loved him and he understood what that meant.

"You love me," Amy returned.

"I do."

It was hard to stay mad at him for long. Tall as he was, he looked silly with his tousled hair.

"Maybe I forgive you," Amy admitted. The second time around, she walked into the river and allowed herself to be caught up in the eddy. That time, Dave followed right behind her.

It was fun, in a childish sort of way.

He pouted and it was a hard expression to resist.

"Fine. I forgive you," Amy said as she clambered out of the river, Dave right on her heel.

He pulled her body against him. Their wet clothes clung together by friction, and his body was hot against hers. Had it really only been three days since they last had sex? It seemed like an eternity. She felt the beginnings of desire pool in her stomach.

They kissed, Dave keeping it chaste in deference to the children playing not to far from him.

"You're sunburnt," Amy commented. She lightly ran her fingertips over his burnt cheeks and frowned. His ears and nose felt the wrath of the sun as well.

"You are too," Dave said.

Amy traced lightly over her own skin. It felt hotter than it should, though without a mirror she could not see the burn for herself.

"But the sunscreen," she said, surprised she was burnt. She and Dave both were diligent in their reapplication of the sunscreen.

"Reduces exposure, not blocks."

Perfectly aware of how sunscreen worked, Amy was forced to agree.

Knowing she was burnt, Amy took extra care in applying another coat of sunscreen. The burn didn't feel bad but if it was, she wouldn't know until the next day anyways.

After setting up camp, they went for a brief hike. Never before had either of them been so far removed from civilization. Just the two of them on the short trail, away from the water and the rest of the group.

The brush and trees were beautiful, a sight she could not describe. She took pictures and yet she was sure they could not capture everything. Not the richness of the contrasting colors nor the depth the angles and curves or the rising mountains, blending together in chaotic harmony.

Enthralled as she was with what was above her, she barely noticed her steps and were it not for Dave's quick reflexes, she would have fallen to the ground.

"Thanks," she breathed against his chest. He looked down at her, his hand still on her arm, steadying her and holding her to him.

She didn't know who made the first move. Whether it was him or her didn't matter. Only that his lips were on hers and he tasted like salt and sunlight and Dave.

Intoxicating he was. She did not need alcohol to drive her mad with desire, to make her forget herself.

It had been four days. They were alone.

Not too far from camp that they would not be heard if they called out, but far enough. If they were quiet.

She felt evidence of his arousal and knew it to be equal to hers.

She pulled him just off the side of the trail to be sure. Hidden by the leaves, she pulled off her quick-drying athletic shirt. In only her bikini top, she felt exposed, outside as they were.

It was a rush in itself. Knowing someone from camp might stumble upon them. Then he kissed her again and all rational thought was driven from her mind as she lost her clothes. Four days was too damn long.

When they returned to camp, if anyone noticed their unusually long hike no comment was made on it.

That night, they laid on the sandy beach and looked upwards. In LA it was impossible to see more than a handful of stars, and only then on particularly clear nights. Most of the time there were no stars to be seen at all.

It was mesmerizing to watch them glittering above. Her head rested in the crook of Dave's shoulder, she traced patterns over his stomach.

"I've never actually seen the stars before," Dave commented, admiring the view as much as her.

"Never?" Amy questioned. She did not see them often though she had on a few occasions.

"London. LA. Not much of a chance to see the stars."

The light pollution where they lived was a shame. It blocked out the magnificent view.

"I've only seen the stars a couple of times. I can't believe tonight is our last night."

Although sleeping on the ground was uncomfortable, she was surprised to find that she adjusted to it easily. Though she longed for a shower at the end of the first day, by the end of the third day she no longer felt dirty.

"I don't want it to be over," Dave said.

Amy agreed. This trip could last forever and she would be happy. Content.

The butterflies in her stomach were normal. She was used to feeling them around Dave, though as she knew him better then transformed. No longer making her nauseous, they made her happy. It was a feeling she craved.

One she did not want to ever have to let go.

Although their tent was set up, the night was relatively warm and there were no clouds in sight. Nestled as she was against Dave, they fell asleep on the sandy bank.

She woke up to the rising sun. Without moving, she looked as the sky blushed pink and orange. Dave stirred next to her.

"It's beautiful," Amy said.

Dave, not a morning person, grunted in response. She propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. Dave did not even open his eyes.

"Wakey wakey," she singsonged.

Her attempt to get him up did no good. It was the smell of the brewing coffee that finally got him to move.

When they stood up, they were covered in sand. Scratchy and uncomfortable, they only had to survive breakfast that way. Once they were back on the river, the water would wash most of the discomfort away.

For the final day, the river was tame enough their guide gave them the chance to steer the raft.

Despite the instructions to use her oar as a rudder, the practical application was not as easy as the theory. Until she sat in the back calling out the directions, Amy did not realize just how difficult it was to control the raft, even on the tamer sections. It seemed that the raft went the opposite of the direction she intended.

Not accustomed to failing, Amy felt shame as she got the raft caught in a shallow section. It took them almost five minutes to get moving again.

Her shame faded slightly as Dave, too, got them stuck. That time, it took the guide getting out of the raft and pulling them to get them afloat again.

If she failed, at least she was not the only one.

"How do you do this so easily?" Amy finally asked the guide.

"Practice. It gets easier."

That was what the ten thousand hours was all about. The time it took to become an expert in something. The guide had that expertise aplenty.

Joan and her husband, while they did not get them stranded, were hardly any better than Amy or Dave.

She might be a star in the field of neuroscience, but when it came to exercise she was subpar.

At least one skill she could boast of by the end of the trip was her lack of shame over announcing her intention to pee, and then suffer the indignity of half wiggling, half being pulled up up by the top of the life jacket, back into the raft. Despite years of conditioning, she no longer even cared that she did her business to knowing looks as the water washed away the evidence as soon as it came. There was no need for inhibition. No shame. Everyone was in the same boat at some point or other.

When they reached their final takeout point, Amy felt a sense of nostalgia that it was over.

Although she no longer missed showering, she and Dave showered immediately after checking into their hotel. The clean change of dry clothes and the lack of grit on her skin was heavenly.

And she and Dave both smelled better.

They went out for dinner at a small restaurant. Tired out from four full days on the river, instead of touring the small town they went back to their hotel to sleep.

Amy relished the feel of a soft mattress beneath her and the fluffy pillows cradling her head. She moaned as she sank into the plush feathers.

"I missed this," she said.

Dave collapsed down beside her. She curled up into him as was her habit.

They would have full day of travel ahead of them the next day. For now, she would enjoy being able to sleep easily for the first time in days.

Her muscles protested no matter which way she laid down, but at least the ground did not put knots in her back. It could be worse, she thought. It could be way worse.

In only a handful of days, she felt a lot closer to Dave.

And it was a good change. A really good change.

That night was the first time that Amy's dreams of her future featured a physical face.


	31. Chapter 31

Dave's willingness to accompany Amy on the white river rafting trip was touching. Maybe it wasn't his first choice of ways to spend a long weekend, but he went along with it. For her.

He didn't question or complain. If it hadn't been his favorite activity, he made no mention of it. That part made her feel just the slightest bit guilty. He did something for her. Now she wanted to do something for him in return. The what was the hardest question.

There were a handful of mathematics conferences and lectures coming up, and while they both would enjoy them, it was not the type of activity she was looking for. There were also museums and movies but those seemed banal. She wanted to do something Dave loved.

The only problem was that was hard to come up with. While he opened up to her move over time, he was never verbose about his favorite hobbies. Aside from mathematics and trains, she knew little of what he liked beyond a handful of his favorite foods and her.

It was time to bring in the big guns to figure something out.

"Math and trains? That's not a lot to go on," Penny told Amy.

"I know," Amy admitted. That was the problem and the reason she came to her friends for help in the first place.

"Does he like any sports?" Bernadette asked.

"Not that I know of," Amy admitted.

Shouldn't she know that by now? They'd been dating for awhile and she spent more time with him than with any of her other friends now.

"You could take him to a movie," Penny suggested.

"Not special enough."

"There's a wine tasting festival."

"No, Penny, that's your dream date. Dave prefers beer."

"Fine, then go beer tasting," Bernadette suggested.

Now that was an idea, but it was too subdued. She could take him to a brewing company and they could enjoy dinner while he tried out the various beers, but it was nothing special. Nothing they wouldn't do anyways. The sports idea was the best one she heard so far and without even knowing which sports or teams he liked, if he liked sports at all, it would be near impossible to construct his ideal date. All she knew was that he used to play rugby, but a quick internet search revealed there were no rugby games in LA anytime soon.

She wanted to think of something though. That was the problem.

Maybe it was not right to snoop, but while he was in the shower, Amy rummaged through his desk drawer. Mostly it was loose papers filled with equations, though buried off to the side she found a photograph. It was a selfie taken at a soccer game, though he was not the only person in the picture. There was a woman next to him. With high cheekbones and flawless skin, Amy thought she was gorgeous, perhaps even as beautiful as Penny.

Turning the photograph over, there was nothing marking the event or date or even who the person was.

Was that his ex wife? And if she was, how could he be interested in her? She wasn't nearly as attractive as the woman in the picture.

No. She had to calm herself down. She couldn't get jealous. It could be a sister or an aunt or a friend for all she knew.

There was nothing sisterly or friendly in the way they looked at each other.

She was the one who snooped, and if she found something she didn't want to see, she could only blame herself.

She should replace the picture and close the desk drawer. Forget it ever happened. Forget what she saw. That would be best. Dave didn't invite her to look and she shouldn't have.

Except it was hard to force her body to move when she felt frozen by indecision. She wanted to do something nice for him.

She remained frozen for longer than she thought and was brought back to reality when she heard Dave clear his throat behind her. He was fully dressed though his hair was still wet from his shower.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, though there was no suspicion. Just genuine curiosity.

Caught red handed, Amy did not even attempt to construct a lie. She was never a good liar anyhow.

"I was looking through your desk," she admitted.

Surprisingly, he wasn't angry or even upset.

"Find anything interesting?" His tone of voice implied he was . . . amused?

He didn't appear disturbed. "You're not upset I was looking?" Amy asked in return.

Dave approached her. "I want you to feel comfortable here. I have nothing to hide."

"I am comfortable here," Amy said. He invited her to his house often, and he even gave her a key at the same time she gave him her key. They'd been dating for awhile. Yet still it felt like an invasion of his privacy to go snooping.

"Who is she?" Amy asked, handing Dave the photograph.

His expression became unreadable. He froze. She did not need to hear his explanation to know who exactly the woman in the photograph was. It was clear from his reaction.

"My ex wife. I didn't know I still had this."

To Amy's surprise, he did not replace it in his desk. Tearing the photograph in half, he instead tossed it into the garbage can.

"You alright?" he asked her.

Was she alright after snooping and finding a picture of him with his gorgeous ex wife? She'd be lying if she said she was entirely alright. But it was over between them. She knew that. A rational person, she understood.

But seeing the evidence was harder to overcome.

"Yes." She hugged him. "She's beautiful." She couldn't see his expression with her face pressed against his chest, but she felt him tense.

He stroked his hand down her back soothingly. "You're more beautiful." He sounded truthful, but that wasn't possible. Yet she wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe it to be true. Yet she wasn't beautiful. She knew that. Her mother ensured she knew that her entire life.

"You really think so?" Amy asked to be sure. It shouldn't matter who was more beautiful between her and his ex wife. The other woman was a part of his past just as she was his present. She shouldn't compare them. It was unfair to her especially. Letting go wasn't as easy as the rational behind the thought.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Kissing was easier than talking, and when it inevitably led them to his bed, she was already planning on staying the night.

However, that still left her with the problem of what Dave would enjoy most on a date.

"What about laser tag?" Bernadette suggested.

"Or bowling. Bowling could be fun," Penny added.

Amy glared at the both of them. "We're not fifteen," she commented.

Going out to dinner was normal. She wanted something he would remember.

She didn't know what she wanted to do, only that she wanted to show him how much she cared. She wanted to go beyond her words. Maybe she did not need to prove her affection to him. He never asked her to, and she doubted he ever would. Her spoken reassurances were enough for him.

Perhaps she needed to prove something to herself. It was easy to fall into the pattern of being pampered and having her desires placed above his. After all, if she voiced an interest in something Dave easily went along with her. Just once, she wanted to return the favor.

She knew what it was like to be the party in the relationship whose desires were overwritten. She didn't want to be the one doing the hurting, not even if it was unintentional.

In a stroke of good luck, Dave mentioned in passing that he enjoyed soccer, or football as he called it. Stereotypical, of course, and she did not know a lot about soccer, but she was able to get tickets to a local game.

Amy researched the rules and they seemed straightforward enough. If she was not particularly looking forward to going to a sporting event, the excited look on Dave's face when she showed him the tickets solidified her resolve. She hadn't ever seen him that excited before.

They went out for dinner before the game, her treat of course. Dave tried to pay as she bought the tickets but she insisted. It was her treat.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get the bill?" Dave asked for the third time.

She frowned up at him, slipping her credit card into the slot and setting the book on the table for their waiter to come and take.

"For the last time yes. It's my treat." It was only one dinner. She appreciated his sentiment but this date was for him. Dinner was fun. She found a place that had some English food she thought he would enjoy, and she was correct. His expression lit up when he was brought out sides of chips and mushy peas, his favorites, the latter of which was difficult to find at restaurants in LA. She did not care for the food, but her enjoyment was of less importance that evening.

"Thank you, Amy," Dave said when she signed the receipt and wrote down the amount for the check. "I can't believe you're taking me to a football game."

"I can't either," Amy said, because although it was her idea, it was strange that she was going to go to a soccer game.

Sports weren't her favorite. She barely even liked them. Occasionally she would watch the olympics with Penny and Bernadette, but that was the extent of her familiarity with sports.

Although they arrived at the stadium an hour early, parking was already filling up. She still managed to find a parking spot, though it was small and she had to adjust to get in. The stadium was starting to fill up as they found their seats. Because she purchased tickets last minute, they were in the upper bowl.

Dave didn't seem to care that they were not close to the field. As they waited for the game to start, Dave explained the rules to Amy. Though she was passingly familiar, she was content to let him talk. He was excited about something and just listening to the sound of his voice was interesting.

It was alive. Alight with excitement. She kissed his cheek and he looked surprised.

"What was that for?" he asked, confused.

Amy shrugged. "Do I need a reason?"

"No."

"I like seeing you this happy," she admitted. Seeing him excited made her excited. Made her happy.

When the game started, she realized that for all the rules she memorized, it did not really help her understand the game. Sure she could follow along with the points and which team was which, but beyond that, she often missed the cause of the fouls—though Dave did his best to explain them to her.

She might not understand what was going on but the enthusiasm in the stadium let her know when she should clap and cheer. Maybe it wasn't her scene, but it was easy enough to get swept along. To casual observers, she might even look like a soccer fan herself, apart from the shouting profanities at the opposing team part. She wasn't into that.

During the less exciting parts, she and Dave conversed, though it was hard to hold much of a conversation as it was constantly interrupted by cheers.

She should have thought to bring earplugs. The next time she took him to a soccer game—with how much he enjoyed this game, she had no doubt she would arrange for them to go to many more—she would be more prepared. She didn't love the sport enough to risk her hearing for it.

By the end of the game, she was tired and ready to go home, though strangely, she was also pumped up at their team's victory. Was it odd to gain energy from an accomplishment that was not her own?

Having no experience with the matter, she would have to research it further to answer her question. However, it it was true it would certainly explain why Penny liked sports. Maybe Amy could even stomach going to a game with Penny. It could be a double date.

* * *

Guest: I'm glad you loved it. They rafted a section of the Green River called the Gates of Lodore. It's the perfect trip for people who have never gone rafting before; a bit of excitement on Hell's Half Mile, but for the most part a gentle float with lots of great hiking trails off to the side (and chances to see hieroglyphs, pottery shards, and waterfalls).


	32. Chapter 32

His palm felt sweaty in hers and he seemed jittery all week. Dave displayed the classic signs of nervousness and from his heightened anxiety as he walked with her up to her apartment after their date, she figured he was about to tell her what had him on edge all week.

She did not need to invite him in anymore; it was assumed he would come in for a night cap.

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No. That's alright."

Alright," she said and sat down on the couch next to him. She leaned over to kiss him but not too long after he pulled away, looking more nervous than ever.

"Amy," he began, "I know we haven't dated long, but I love you and I want to marry you." She saw him become even more nervous. "I mean, that is if you want to marry me, I'd be delighted, but if you don't, I understand and I hope that we can still—"

"—Stop talking," she hushed him and put her finger over his lips to silence him, knowing her boyfriend would ramble on awkwardly without end if she did not stop him. "Yes, I'll marry you."

"Yes?" He appeared hopeful and in disbelief.

She beamed at him. She was not expecting a proposal at this early stage in their relationship, but she also knew she did not have to think about it. There was only one possible answer she wanted to give and it was yes.

"Absolutely yes," she launched herself at him, unable to contain her joy any longer.

This time he didn't push her away. Instead, he guided her closer and continued their kiss from earlier. Engaged. She was engaged!

When they broke for air, Amy spared a glance at her phone. She wanted to call Penny and Bernadette right away and tell them the news but she knew it would be rude to do so with Dave still there, and she had no intention of him leaving anytime soon.

Dave caught the way her glance flickered to her phone. "Go call Penny," he urged her, "I'll wait."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Thank you." He knew her so well, knowing what she wanted to do most without even having to be told. "I'll make it quick. I promise."

She moved to her bedroom and closed the door even though the walls were thin enough she knew Dave would be able to hear most of the call. It still helped her think she was in private to talk to her best friend.

"I'm engaged!" she shouted over the phone the moment Penny answered.

There was a brief silence as Penny registered what she said and then and excited squeal over the other end. "What? When? Where? Oh, Amy, was it romantic? What's the ring look like?"

"Just now at my apartment. He was nervous and it was so romantic and I can't talk long, he's still here, but I'm engaged!"

"Send me a picture of the ring," Penny demanded, eager to be the first one to see the ring so she could forever laud it over everyone.

"He hasn't given me a ring yet. But I know he will. Anyways, I have to go. Talk to you later bestie."

She briefly waited for Penny to say goodbye as well before hanging up the phone and bouncing back into the living room. She felt like she was in the clouds she was so happy. This was the best day of her life, she was sure of it.

Dave stood up from the couch when she came back into the room.

"Sorry," he said a bit sheepishly, "I couldn't help but overhearing. I have a ring but it's at my house and I wasn't going to propose tonight but you just looked so perfect I knew I should ask you tonight."

She was certain she would be content to listen to him ramble unendingly, but he was just sweet enough she could not hold herself back any longer.

"I love you," she told him between kisses. It was finally happening. She was an engaged woman and she was going to marry the man she loved.

Perhaps her need for planning should win out and she should start discussing the logistics of their wedding, but as they kissed the only thing she could think about was him and the way he made her feel weightless.

"I'd like a fall wedding," she said once they calmed down and were cuddling on her couch.

"Alright," Dave agreed and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"It isn't too soon? We need a venue and caterers and a minister and a dress. We need to register and figure out where we're going to live. We need to send out invitations. How many people do we invite? Small ceremony? Large? How do I tell Bernadette that Penny will be my maid of honor? Oh my god, I have to tell my mother. And I don't know any of your family. Will they like me? What if they don't like me? Oh no! You'll have to meet my mother."

"Breathe, Amy," Dave told her calmly. "We don't have to figure any of that out tonight."

Rather than calming her down, he had rather the opposite effect. "I don't even know if I want to change my name. Do I hyphenate or—"

He quieted her with a kiss. He was becoming rather adept at that maneuver as of late. If she did not enjoy the spontaneity quite as much, she would be put out with him, but as it stood she simply melted into his arms.

"But if we're going to have a fall wedding we only have three months to get everything ready. That's not enough time. I bet all the best venues are already booked. And we'll need to go cake tasting."

"Then we can push the wedding back a bit."

"But I don't want to wait till next fall," Amy protested. She did not want to be engaged for over a year. Not when Dave was so perfect.

"Then we'll get married this fall."

She finally felt herself beginning to relax. He was right before. They did not have to figure everything out that night. They still had time and Penny and Bernadette would both help her. The invitations would need to be sent out soon, but as for the rest, she still had all her notes on all the places Bernadette looked at when she had her wedding. With a list of florists, caterers, bakeries, and dress shops, all she really had to be worried about was finding an acceptable venue. Leonard and Penny were still certified ministers, but with Penny as her maid of honor, Leonard could be their minister.

"You know, we all were certified as ministers for Bernadette and Howard's wedding. I think Leonard could be our minister. That is, unless you wanted someone else."

"As long as I get to marry you, I don't care about the rest."

He was so adorably cute. She always wanted a special day just for her and he already seemed to know she cared more about the ceremony itself than he did. His lack of enthusiasm for the logistics was strangely endearing, even if she wondered if she should be upset that he was not as eager to plan their wedding as her.

When Amy woke up the next morning, she lethargically lay in bed not wanting to get up for work. Then the events of the previous evening came back to her and she felt a broad smile cross her face. Suddenly she no longer felt tired but full of energy, ready to get started on her day and get to work.

"Wake up Dave." When he did not immediately respond she shook him gently on the shoulder until she felt his muscles tighten, an indication that he was awake.

"What time is it?" he grumbled.

"7:00. It's time to get up," she repeated. He was not good with mornings.

Dave sat up next to her and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Are you always going to be this bloody cheerful in the morning?"

"Probably." She giggled. This was the first morning she woke up in bed with her fiancé and it could not have been a better feeling.

When he still did not appear interested in getting ready for work, she made her way over to the kitchen to start on the coffee. If nothing else she knew from experience the scent of coffee was often enough to convince him to get out of bed.

The coffee did the trick, and just as Dave emerged from the bedroom she was about ready to serve the French toast. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she teased.

Dave took a few gulps of coffee before he said anything. "Good morning." His tone let her know he thought otherwise. No morning was a good morning.

They ate breakfast together before Dave had to leave to get ready for work. Once she was alone again, she rushed her way through her morning rituals, speeding up her already efficient routine, and leaving her with ten minutes before she had to leave for work.

She felt slightly guilty for only calling Penny the previous night with her news, and now it was late enough Bernadette would be awake, she could not stop herself from calling her other female friend.

"You're engaged! Tell me all about it." Bernadette demanded the moment she picked up.

"Hello to you too," Amy said sarcastically. She figured Bernadette would be rolling her eyes at about that time.

"So how did Dave propose?" Bernadette cajoled. "I can't believe you told Penny and not me."

The guilt trip. How she enjoyed her needier friend's antics at times.

She told Bernadette the same things she told Penny and after accepting congratulations for the third time, she told Bernadette she had to go into work. Just because her blond friend had no qualms about arriving late to work occasionally Amy was never tardy. She loved routines and schedules and part of that meant showing up at work at exactly 9:00 am as expected.

While she was at work she received texts from Howard, Leonard, and Raj all congratulating her on her engagement. Truthfully she was surprised it took them that long to congratulate her. Knowing Penny's inability to keep her mouth shut, she was certain all their friends knew about her engagement within moments of ending her call with Penny.

Delayed responses and the enormity of planning a wedding aside, her day was looking rather bright already.


	33. Chapter 33

AN: The last four days have been an exercise in Murphy's law, but I should be back on my regular posting schedule now. Yay!

* * *

She knew she was an idiot for dialing the number. Oh. Not an idiot. Putting it off would be even more idiotic, but already she was dreading the conversation.

"Hello," Mrs Fowler said.

"Hi, mom. It's me." Amy waited for Mrs Fowler to say something that would either make her cringe or retaliate, thus starting an argument, but nothing came. "Anyways, I was hoping I could come by sometime this weekend."

"Fine. Come for dinner on Saturday."

Fantastic. What an excellent way to spend a Saturday evening. She took a deep breath. One dinner and then her obligations as a daughter would be fulfilled for the foreseeable future.

"I'll be bringing someone with me," Amy said. There was no need to give her mother more details than strictly necessary.

"Fine. Is there anything else?"

"No," Amy said. They talked for a few minutes, in which time they did not argue at all, and she felt rather proud of herself by the time she hung up. It could have gone way worse. Saturday, she suspected, would meet that expectation.

She waited until Dave was already in the car with her to warn him about her mother. He assured her it would be fine, and while she appreciated the sentiment, she knew it to be false. It would not be fine. Her mother never failed to surprise her.

"Amy, I'm so surprised to see you here. Come in," Mrs Fowler greeted her upon opening the door. Amy rolled her eyes. Her coming to visit was hardly unexpected.

"And you brought someone with you. Amy, introduce me," Mrs Fowler continued.

"Mom, this is Dave. Dave, this is my mother."

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs Fowler."

"You didn't tell me you were bringing a man," Mrs Fowler said.

Amy wanted to shrivel up into a ball on the spot. Without even trying to her mother managed to embarrass her.

"I told you I was bringing someone. This is him."

"Is that Amy?" Mr Fowler called from another room.

"Yes," Amy replied.

Mr Fowler greeted her, and then turned to Dave. "And who is this young man."

"Dad, I'd like you to meet Dave. Dave, my dad." The two men shook hands and exchanged a more pleasant greeting.

"What brings you here, Dave?" Mr Fowler asked.

"Actually, we have something to tell you," Amy said. "Can we sit down?"

She followed her mother to the living room, hand discretely clasped with Dave's. He gave her a reassuring smile but she did not feel the least bit relaxed.

"What's all this about?" Mrs Fowler asked. Her keen eyes noticed the proximity between the young couple and their clasped hands.

Amy took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It did not really help, but the way Dave's hand briefly tightened around her in reassurance gave her the fortitude she needed to continue.

"Dave and I are getting married," she announced.

Mr and Mrs Fowler looked at each other in shock. "But Amy," Mrs Fowler began, his voice grave.

"—but nothing. Why can't you just say congratulations and be happy for me? This is what you wanted after all. I'm finally getting married," she said.

"Well, yes, but I wanted you to get married to someone we know. Someone who will be good for you. Pardon me, Dave, but we know nothing about you. How can we know you'll treat our daughter right?" Mrs Fowler said.

Amy furiously glared at her mother at the same time she felt upset on Dave's behalf. Before she could defend him, he said, "I know you must be worried about Amy, but I love her and will take good care of her. I promise."

Dave sounded sincere and his words not the least bit rehearsed.

His reassurance was enough to satisfy her father. "Well said, son. Welcome to the family." He shook Dave's hand a second time, and Amy let out a breath of relief that one obstacle was over. She had her dad's approval. Quite frankly she cared more for her dad's opinion than her mom's. Not that she needed the approval of either. She wanted to marry Dave and nothing would stop her.

"Don't be naive," Mrs Fowler said, "you know how young men can be. Simpering and polite and then—"

"—don't finish that," Amy warned. "If you want to be invited to my wedding, don't insult my fiancé again. I thought we should come here and tell you in person, but that's it. I don't owe you any explanations. So once again, why can't you be happy for me?"

"Amy," Mrs Fowler sighed, "I am happy you're getting married. I just thought it would be to someone else."

Amy immediately picked up on the not so subtle reference to her ex boyfriend, and based on the way Dave's posture stiffened, he noticed too.

"As I said, it's not your concern," she repeated.

Her mother looked like she was about to continue the argument when the timer on the oven went off, summoning the family to dinner. As far as Amy was concerned, it couldn't have gone off soon enough. Had she gotten her way, they would have come over for a short afternoon visit and been able to escape when the pressure became too much, but as it was they ate in stilted silence, a vast improvement over arguing even if it was exceedingly awkward.

After dinner, Amy feigned exhaustion. Her mother narrowed here eyes at her, and what she meant by it Amy could not tell. Luckily, Dave managed to excuse the two of them before her mother could start into her again. She would hardly be able to express her gratitude to him later but she would try.

"Those were your parents," Dave said once they were in the car on the way to his house.

"Those were my parents," she confirmed, "you handled them better that I expected. I'm sorry for any unpleasantness."

"It wasn't you fault," Dave said, "Besides, this isn't the first set of in-laws I've had to meet."

"I doubt your last in-laws were as bad as my mother."

Dave chuckled, and briefly she lost herself in the sound. "Maybe not," Dave agreed.

Amy rolled her eyes. Sometimes she doubted whether or not her mother cared about her. Her father was more complicated, but at least he did not verbally attack her the way her mother was prone to do.

"And what about your mother? When are we going to tell her?" Amy asked.

"We can Skype her tomorrow morning You'll have to wake me up early so we can call before it isn't too late for her there."

"What time?" Amy asked.

"Six." Dave winced at having to voluntarily get up that early on a weekend, but to Amy it was no big deal.

"Six it is. Can you tell me a bit about your mother?" she asked.

She already knew bits and pieces from the few times Dave brought her up, though given she would be meeting the woman the next day over video call, she figured it would be good to know more about her. Dave obliged her request, though she had to ask him specific questions in order to receive answers she could potentially put to use.

That night while they were laying in bed, Amy turned towards Dave and said, "I want a big wedding."

"Alright," he agreed.

"I'm meeting up with the girls soon to plan. Is there anything you want me to include?"

"No," Dave said.

Amy sighed. It was her special day, one she'd been planning since she was a young girl. She was determined to make it perfect, but she also wanted to take Dave's thoughts into account.

"Not a single thing? Like food or cake or colors or flowers?"

"Amy," Dave said, a bit more firmly, "I really don't care as long as you show up."

"But there must be something you want," she tried again. She really did want to include him.

"There is one thing," Dave said.

"Tell me," Amy said, glad there was something. As long as it did not directly contradict something she planned, she would find a way to incorporate his request. It would be his wedding day too despite his lack of enthusiasm for the particulars.

He leaned closer to her and spoke directly into her ear. "Don't wear anything under your dress."

She flushed, simultaneously scandalized and aroused. She lightly slapped at his shoulder. "Dave! It's a white dress." If it got wet, it would be see through. Not that she was planning on standing out in the rain or anything, but accidents happened.

"I know. Please consider it."

"Maybe," Amy said. It was a good enough answer for Dave, but she already knew she would do it. She just wanted to leave him hanging. During their wedding, he would wonder whether she was commando or not. As an added bonus, if her mother found out, she would have a heart attack. "Is there anything else you want?"

"No. Just you."

His lack of opinion on the topic might be frustrating but the sweetness of his sentiments won out over any frustration she might have felt.

"Dave."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for coming to my parent's house today."

Dave propped himself up on his elbows to better look at her face. "They'll be my family soon too," he said and gave her a gentle peck on the lips.

"Sure you still want to marry me?"

"Nothing could change my mind."

She smiled a bit at his ignorance. Once day, he would learn just how much they managed to simultaneously insult and annoy her, and no doubt he would be included in her mother's derision as well.

"You say that now." She smiled a bit while she spoke but it was more from the relaxation brought on by their intimate encounter rather than a genuine happiness.

"Goodnight, Amy," Dave said.

"Goodnight," Amy replied. It did not take long for sleep to claim her.


	34. Chapter 34

The brief conversation with Dave's mother went much better. If her future mother-in-law seemed a bit off to Amy, who was she to judge odd personality quirks? She had more than a few herself, as did her friends. The woman, Beth Gibbs, was very friendly and wished them luck. Her health would not allow her to travel to be there in person. Amy promised to send her pictures.

She was surprised when Beth asked to talk to her alone. Dave left the room and she stared at the woman, uncertain what to say.

"My son really likes you," she observed.

Amy smiled. "I love him too," she replied, which made Beth laugh for some reason.

"Love, I'm just glad he found someone. I was starting to think he'd never find love again. Please don't hurt him."

"I won't," Amy promised, "That's the last thing I want to do."

Beth stared at her for a moment and Amy felt like she was under the spotlight. She was, in a way. This woman's opinion mattered to Dave and thus it mattered to her.

"You'll do," Beth finally said.

"Thank you," Amy replied.

That task completed, there was still a lot to do and none of it easy. Enthusiastic though she was, sorting through various menus, decorations, and venues was taking it's toll on her, even with Penny and Bernadette to help. She wanted the perfect wedding, and to an extent she enjoyed the search, but at the end of the day, she was beginning to see some of Dave's point of view.

"What about the beach?" Penny suggested one day. Amy hoped she was being facetious. No way was she having her wedding on a beach. Her friend's husbands might literally die of the sunlight at the beach, to say nothing of the annoyance the sand would cause. Scratchy, itchy, and gets everywhere. No thank you.

"This is it," Amy said. Penny and Bernadette seemed skeptical that there would still be availability for the hall that close to the date, but a recent cancellation meant Amy had to push back the date by a week, but no longer.

Once she had the venue everything seemed to fall into place. The dress, the shoes, the caterers, the decorations, and the cake. She put deposits on everything and finally was able to get a breath of fresh air.

"I've done everything," Amy told Dave that night.

He looked at her blankly. "For the wedding. Everything's done," she said.

Dave expressed his enthusiasm, in more ways than one. "Do you have anything planned for Thursday?" he asked.

"I was thinking about going out with the girls," Amy said. Bernadette expressed a wish to have a final girls night before the baby. "Why?"

"Oh, I had something in mind, but that's alright. You go have girls night."

"You know, I can reschedule to Friday if you want," Amy observed.

"It's alright," Dave said, though Amy sensed that was not what he meant. Sometimes it was frustrating not being told every explicit detail.

"I'll text the girls now," Amy said.

"Really? That would be great."

She rolled her eyes. Her guess was correct. He did want her to reschedule. Both Penny and Bernadette were happy with the change of plans. Dave was even more enthusiastic.

"Do I get to ask what we're doing on Thursday?"

"It's a surprise," Dave said.

"Of course it is," she muttered, quietly enough she could not be sure whether he heard her or not. She hoped it was the later.

"Close your eyes," Dave said when he merged onto the freeway.

"Please can't you tell me where we're going?" Amy asked.

"No. It would ruin the surprise. Now just close your eyes."

Amy complied but grumbled, "How much longer?"

Dave, to his credit, kept her well distracted with conversation while she kept her eyes closed. It was a bit disorienting at first to get accustomed to the movement of the car without her eyesight, but soon she was almost lulled to sleep.

"Wake up Amy," Dave said, and she startled. How long had it been? The car felt like it was at a complete stop and she could no longer hear the sound of the engine.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Go ahead."

Amy blinked in the sharp lighting, but as she observed her surroundings, she quickly recognized where they were. "UCLA?" she said, wondering why he brought her to his workplace on a Thursday evening. Not that it wasn't nice to be back, but she no longer worked at UCLA.

"There's a neurobiology panel. I thought you'd like it. John O'Keefe will be speaking."

Amy's jaw dropped open for a solid second as she incoherently spluttered. Finally, she exclaimed, "Thank you!"

Dave hopped out of the car, Amy still sitting frozen in excitement. "You all right?" he asked, more amused than concerned.

"I'm fine. Just . . . thank you. This is amazing."

They found seats together in the auditorium, and even a half hour before the intended start time it was already becoming packed.

"I'm actually surprised you didn't know about this," Dave commented while they waited.

Amy was surprised too. Normally she would already be planning to attend any neurobiology event nearby. This one she did not even know about, and as she looked at the list of speakers, she was both impressed with the big names and even more shocked she was oblivious to it. Rescheduling girls night was definitely worth it.

"Me too. I guess I've been preoccupied with the wedding," she said. She could think of no other reason the even slipped through her radar.

"Glad to be of assistance then," Dave said. Amy thanked him again. Once the speakers were introduced, she listened with rapt attention. If Dave was slightly bored, she would never have noticed. Familiar with all the speakers' research, even if only distantly as it was not directly related to her work, she asked a couple of questions at the end and smirked as she managed to stump the Nobel Laureate in the room.

"This was really fun. Thank you," she said to Dave while they were leaving.

"It was interesting."

"You were bored."

"No."

"You're lying."

"Maybe a little," Dave finally admitted, "but I did enjoy listening to you question the speakers. You were harsh."

"I wasn't harsh," Amy protested.

Dave rolled his eyes, an action that seemed to say really. "No. You were harsh. Brilliant and passionate, but harsh. Luckily for you, I love you anyways."

"Hey," Amy protested, "I would say luckily for you."

"Amy?"

"Yes?"

"Stop talking."

They weren't even to Dave's car yet and he kissed her. In the middle of the parking lot. And she couldn't care less where they were.

After the panel they went out to dinner. Amy spent the first half rehashing everything from the conference, from the data to the methodology to the implications for further research. Dave listened indulgently to her, and while she began to feel bad about rambling on and on about a topic for which he had little interest, it was hard to stop herself as passionate as she was about her work.

"What is it?" Amy finally asked when she realized Dave was staring at her without saying anything.

"You're cute when you get all passionate about neuroscience." His compliment, awkward though it was, made her blush. How she disliked that reaction that gave away far too much of herself.

Dave drove them back to his house, and as he let them in, she thought the house felt just as much his as hers. Soon, it would be. She commented on that observation aloud, causing Dave to stop in his tracks.

He already gave her a key to his house a long time back, at the same time she gave him a key to her apartment.

"Amy," he said, and then looked around the room. She noticed the same things he did. There were pictures of her and her friends set up on the coffee table and even hanging from the wall. She put them there when she began spending a lot of time at Dave's house and noticed the lack of decorations. If they were to go into his bedroom, she knew she would find half the dresser taken over by her spare clothes, and she purchased a second set of toiletries that set up shop in his bathroom. Some of her other personal effects also laid around, neatly put away, but they were there. She brought over her mixer so they could make cookies together. There were neuroscience journals and printed articles lined up next to his math texts on the bookcase. Her favorite writers: Chaucer, Jane Austen, and Laura Ingalls Wilder, could also be found with bookmarks in them on the coffee table. Without even realizing it, she already moved in.

"Would you like to move in with me?"

The question was moot. They both already knew she lived with him. She had her space and her things, and recently she spend more of her time off work at his house than at her apartment. She was already living with him, and they were to be married soon. She still had a couple months of the lease left on her apartment. She did not want to stay there anyways. It was an okay apartment, good at the time she needed it, but she was moving on with her life.

At one point she went apartment hunting to find a better place, and eventually gave up when nothing seemed right. Then she and Dave started dating and looking for a new apartment completely slipped her mind. A part of her knew she'd be moving in with him after they were married, but what were an extra couple of months? She lived there anyways.

"I think I already have, but yes," she agreed. Her house. No longer a guest but hers. Soon to be hers.

She packed all her belongings into boxes and moved them to her new residence. She and Dave took what furniture they might possibly need or want and arranged for a thrift store to come pick up the rest. Her apartment was left unoccupied for the final few months before her lease was up.

With a place of her own, she invited Penny and Bernadette over for a girls night, thrilled to be the one hosting it for once. When they came, Dave absented himself. He claimed he was going to see a movie with his work friends, and the girls waved goodbye to him before commencing on their drinking ritual.

"Dish. When did you move in?" Bernadette said.

Amy blinked in surprise. As much as she thought about it, she never had told Penny and Bernadette that she moved in with Dave, odd considering her usual proclivity to update the two of them about every other personal detail in her life, especially the ones they did not want to know.

"A couple of weeks ago. Right when he took me to the neurobiology panel."

"What neurobiology panel?" Penny asked.

Amy was not surprised. Penny had little memory for science, though she suspected that was more her disinterest than a particular problem with memorization. Penny did perfectly fine with reciting lines in the few acting jobs she had. Interest was a strong motivator.

However, Bernadette asking the same question let Amy know that she hadn't told them about it.

"He took me to a neurobiology panel at UCLA. John O'Keefe was one of the speakers," Amy said.

"Oh. That's great," Bernadette said at the same time Penny asked "Who's that?"

"He's a Noble Laureate," Amy explained, "he studies—"

"—blah, blah, blah," Penny interrupted. Though Amy and Bernadette wanted to talk shop, they both refrained when Penny was around, knowing their friend did not understand their more intellectual conversations and had no desire to learn.

Bernadette switched the subject, which led to some fruitful conversation and Penny making margaritas for herself. Amy declined the stronger drink. That did not stop Penny from polishing off the drinks designed for two.

Dave arrived back, and though he absented himself to his den, Amy felt guilty that he felt unwelcome in his house. Correction. Their house.

Leaving Penny and Bernadette to entertain themselves, she found him reading at his computer. "You can come join us if you want," she invited him, "I didn't mean for you to feel excluded because it's girls night. Raj often joins us anyways," she said.

"I didn't feel excluded," Dave said. "I just wanted to get some reading done. I hope you are having fun with the girls."

"I am," Amy said. He looked consumed by whatever was on his computer and she did not want to interrupt much longer. "If you want to join us," she left an open invitation.

"Oh," Bernadette suddenly said.

"What?" Penny asked.

"The baby's moving again," Bernadette said.

Penny and Amy raced to feel her belly, an action that made the short girl roll her eyes. Bernadette swore everyone else cared more about her pregnancy than she did. She was the least excited of everyone.

"I can't feel him. Or her," Amy said. Penny concurred. She felt the wave of longing wash over her again. She wanted one. There was not a lot of time until her wedding. Hopefully it would not be too much longer after that until she and Dave were having a child of their own.

"Guys," Bernadette said when Penny and Amy failed to remove their hands. "Want to stop touching my belly yet?"

"Nope," Amy and Penny said in unison, causing Bernadette to roll her eyes yet again.

Bernadette indulged them a bit longer before pushing their hands away. There was friendship and there was personal space. The two did not necessarily coincide.

When the girls finally left, Amy was left to the fun task of cleaning, and though she was exhausted and just wanted to go to sleep, she forced herself to tidy up. She would hate to have Dave feel exiled from their house and then to leave him with a mess.

After she finished cleaning she sat at the table and picked at the damp rag. She really neglected to tell Penny and Bernadette about moving in with Dave. They did not know about the neurobiology conference, and when she thought back to the last time she talked to them, really talked to them and not just a few cursory texts, it was while she was finishing up her wedding preparations. That was a little over a month ago.

She felt guilty at the distance she inadvertently put between them. It was not intentional. It just happened. She got wrapped up in everything else and she simply forgot to make the time to see them. Amy resolved that was going to stop right away. She would not be that girl to become so wrapped up in her significant other she neglected her friends.

High school Amy would be thrilled at a boy commandeering her time, but older, mature Amy also appreciated the value her friends added into her life. She did not want to loose them by negligence. Given how long it took her to become friends with them, she doubted her ability to make more close friends at all.

A part of not seeing Penny and Bernadette as much was the fact that they still ate most of their dinners at 4A, a place which she and Dave would not go. They could spend other times with her friends, but with work it was often times hard to do.

Penny and Bernadette both stayed close to their friends and saw them often once they married. She would not be any different. In that she would follow their example, though she did know she choose better than either of them. A sleazy engineer with a creepily close relationship with her mother and a nearsighted, lactose intolerant experimental physicist was not her ideal man. They seemed to suit Bernadette and Penny however.

To that end, Amy made a point to invite her friends over for dinner once a week. Leonard and Penny, Howard and Bernadette, and Raj and, more often than not, his new girlfriend, Emily, would all come over. It was not the same frequency with which she used to dine with them but at least it guaranteed she would see them.

It also gave Dave the opportunity to meet more people. Her hopes were that after they were married, they could do couples things with the other couples.

All in all, her life was good. If she neglected to answer her mother's numerous phone calls, all the better. Amy felt like she was finally moving in the right direction.


	35. Chapter 35

"Oh God!"

She hadn't meant to find it, had not even known it existed, but there it was clear as day. She borrowed Dave's laptop after she accidentally left hers in the lab and did not want to drive all the way there and back to retrieve it. His browser history was still up and she did not mean to snoop, only he was watching videos on Youtube of physicists.

The up next feature automatically started playing "Physicist freaks out in Spock documentary" and the small icon revealed a familiar face. Amy was frozen in place. She should have clicked on the little red x in the top lefthand corner but before she knew it Sheldon was displaying his most prized possessions and there was a ring.

A wedding ring and not just something he bought but a ring passed down through his family. It had sentimental value and he had wanted to give it to her. Wanted to marry her.

She had not thought it possible. She'd known but she hadn't really known. Hadn't really believed he'd meant what he said about wanting to marry her.

Now she knew she was not sure what to do. She watched the rest of his freakout, feeling progressively guiltier that she was the cause. All this time she thought she'd meant very little to him, but the biggest Sheldon Cooper freakout to date was over her. Yet at the time she could not have done any differently, not when she was convinced he did not see a future with her and she could not stay in the relationship without one. Oh, he'd promised to give in to her wishes but that was not the type of relationship she wanted. She did not want to force him into anything. Now, she was not so sure she was right about Sheldon's motivations.

She drove over to Penny's. She needed advice only a bestie could give.

"Sheldon was going to propose to me," she accused Penny the moment her bestie opened the door to 4B.

Penny looked guilty.

"You knew and you didn't tell me."

Penny ushered Amy inside and sat her on the couch while she grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine.

"How did you...who told you?"

"I saw the interview." Amy clasped her hands together and looked down at her lap. "Sheldon? Is he better now?"

Penny looked away. Oh god. He wasn't and it was her fault.

"I'll admit he's still not back to himself, but he's doing fine. He's really involved in his work. Leonard says he might be about to make a breakthrough. But I still don't think he's over you."

"Oh," Amy said. It appeared to be one of the few words she knew that night. Her heart beat rapidly. Why now? Why couldn't this have happened a year ago. Had she known, perhaps she would not have moved on so quickly. Maybe she would have given him more of a chance.

But it was too late now. She and Dave would be getting married in two days.

"Amy...are...are you...reconsidering marrying Dave?" Penny wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer either way. The fallout would be bad not matter which way Amy choose.

"I don't know." She really did not know. Earlier in the day she knew irrevocably she loved Dave and wanted to marry him.

This new knowledge changed everything. She still loved Sheldon, and now she knew he once saw a future with her as well, her certainty in their breakup was rapidly fading. If she married Dave, any chance with Sheldon would be over forever, yet if she stopped her wedding now, she knew with certainty her relationship with Dave would be over and she did not want that either. She and Dave were similar; they wanted marriage and children and they loved each other. He showed her the physical affection she craved without having to be pushed into it. He was not as brilliant as Sheldon, but he was smarter than average and she never once doubted his devotion to her. He was irresistibly cute in his own way, like when he rambled on in excitement or did small, thoughtful gestures for her that she failed to repay.

She loved him. That was the most important factor of all. She did not know it was possible to be in love with two men simultaneously but she was and it made everything harder.

If she followed her brain, Dave was a much better match for her in so many ways than Sheldon was.

"Amy...have you really thought this through? You were so happy when Dave proposed. Do you really want to throw that away?"

"No," Amy whispered. "But what if I was wrong about Sheldon? I've never stopped loving him."

"Do you love Dave?"

"Absolutely." That answer was immediate as well. She looked helplessly at Penny. "What do I do bestie?"

Penny hugged her and Amy felt the comfort that was intended.

"You need to follow your heart," Penny soothed her.

"What if my heart doesn't know what it wants?"

"Then talk to your fiancé. Bernadette and I both got cold feet right before we married and talking to our husbands helped. Go talk to Dave."

Amy considered the suggestion. She would talk to him. She was surely just blowing the importance of the interview way out of proportion. But what if she wasn't? Was she willing to take the risk that Sheldon truly was her better match?

As a scientist she needed all the data before she could come to a decision. She and Penny talked a bit longer before she excused herself and left, but Amy did not go downstairs. Instead she waited for Penny to retreat back into her and Leonard's apartment before crossing the landing and knocking on 4A.

She felt the guilt before the door even opened. What was she thinking showing up at her ex's unannounced on the eve of her wedding to talk to said ex without even informing her fiancé what she was about?

"Hi, Sheldon. Can we talk?" she asked when he answered the door.

He nodded slowly and stepped aside to let her in. She sat herself down on the armchair, intentionally not on the center of the couch in what she considered to be 'her spot' even now, and Sheldon moved to his spot.

She could still smell pizza lingering in the air. Thursday night was pizza night. The familiarity was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time.

"What are you doing here, Amy?" His voice had a clinical detachment and she tried not to let it hurt her. After a year she could hardly expect it to hold the same warmth towards her that it used to.

"I saw your outburst in the Spock documentary."

She did not know what she expected Sheldon to do. Perhaps he would illogically deny it ever happened or say he no longer cared about her, that he finally followed in the steps of his favorite half-Vulcan and purged his emotions in Kolinahr. He did neither.

"I see. Did you wish to say anything else?"

Evasion. Color her surprised. The man who never could let a single detail go unnoticed thought he could skip over the biggest tantrum she witnessed him give, and when it came to Sheldon that was saying something. He was the man who threw a tantrum when the lettuce was on the wrong part of his sandwich.

"You...you were going to propose to me."

"It was a possibility." More evasion and uncertainty.

And in the past tense. He no longer considered it anymore, but why would he? She was the one who broke up with him.

"I'm getting married on Saturday," she said. She did not know why she was telling him and she knew she should probably stop talking. "I just thought you should know."

"I see. Is that all?"

What was she expecting? For him to protest and convince her to call off her wedding in favor of him. They'd broken up a year ago. He should no longer hold that kind of sway over her yet she knew if he asked her to she would. She wouldn't be able to help herself. She had a hard time saying no to him.

What was she doing coming over and telling him? Trying to sabotage her relationship with Dave is what. No. She wasn't that kind of woman. She wasn't petty and self-centered. She loved with a passion and she what—needed closure? Vindication that Dave was the better choice? Evidence that he wasn't?

"Well, Amy, if you're stupid enough to engage yourself to a lowly math teacher—"

"—Professor—" she corrected.

"Fine. A lowly math professor, then you deserve him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Just that if you've chosen to marry an intellectually inferior human in a dead-end, worthless career then I'm glad, Amy, that I am not stuck with you anymore."

Of all the hurtful, hateful blows he could deliver, that one certainly stung.

The logical part of her brain knew he only said what he did because he was hurt and blindsided and desperately clinging to a thread. The emotional part of her brain was infuriated that he abused her soon-to-be husband to her face. The latter won out.

"Teaching isn't a dead-end, worthless job. In many cultures, teachers are revered as some of the more important members in society tasked with passing down intellectual traditions. By many standards teaching is at least as valuable as researching theoretical physics."

"You take that back!" Sheldon demanded.

How very like him. While once she would have found his arrogance and superiority endearing, it now angered and annoyed her. Her Dave was not the arrogant ass that this man was.

"I won't." She would be resolute. "And you know what, I'm glad I'm not stuck with your pompous ass anymore either. For a man who says he's intellectually superior, you are an idiot. Coming here was a mistake. Goodbye, Sheldon."

She stormed to the door, but she was not gone quickly enough to avoid hearing the quiet, "But I _am_ superior." Had she stuck around longer, she would have also heard a pained, "Goodbye, Amy Farrah Fowler," accompanied by a whimper.

Talking to Sheldon may have been a mistake and a betrayal of Dave at some level, but any doubts she had on marrying him were forgotten. How could she ever have doubted her affection and commitment to an awkward but humble and compassionate man who loved her for her mind and her body?

By the time she drove home, Dave was almost ready for bed. She rushed her evening ablutions so she could join him. Once the lights were turned off and they said their goodnights, Amy felt guilt tugging at her abdomen. She could not go into their marriage with secrets between them, even if telling the truth would put her in a bad light.

"Dave...I have something to tell you," she ventured. She felt the mattress depress a bit as he turned to face her. She could not make out much in the dark with her glasses off but she reached out her hand to grab onto his.

"What is it, Amy?" he asked, his voice a balm to her nerves. Comfort and affection. That's what she had to look forward to. In two days she would have a lifetime of this security to fall back on whenever she doubted herself. How could she have ever doubted them?

"I wasn't trying to snoop, but I left my laptop in my lab and I borrowed your computer. Anyways, I saw the Youtube video you were watching with Sheldon. You know...the interview in the Spock documentary."

"Amy." She heard and felt the panic at the same time as his fingers tightened around hers.

"I shouldn't have watched it and I'm sorry for invading your privacy. Anyways, I was pretty upset so I went to see Penny and then I ran into Sheldon." _Lie._ She sought Sheldon out, but Dave did not need to know that part.

"Are you leaving me?" He sounded scared though with her vision sorely lacking in the dark she could not be sure.

"No. Absolutely not. Actually, I told Sheldon we were getting married and then I argued with him and I realized...I'm really happy now. I love you and I don't want you to feel threatened."

"I'm glad." Dave seemed to relax a bit thought she could still feel his tension.

"It was silly of me to doubt you, but I am committed to us. I just thought you should know."

"Thank you for telling me."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

She leaned over in the darkness to kiss him but just as the kiss started to turn passionate he pushed her back. She let out an involuntary whine in protest at the loss of contact.

"Not tonight," Dave said, "if we hold off for just a couple more days our wedding night will be all the more special."

"But it's just kissing," she protested.

"It won't be just kissing for long and you know it. Please just try to get some sleep. I'll make it up to you on Saturday."

"Promise?"

"I do, my vixen."

Amy did not have the heart to ask him not to call her by Sheldon's pet name for her. She moved past her ex and she did not want to live her life forever in the specter of what once was.

"Can we cuddle?" she asked, feeling an overwhelming need for the comfort of human touch.

Dave wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her until they were chest to chest and his warm breath tickled the hair at the base of her forehead.

"You never need to ask," he assured her and Amy felt the relaxation lull her into a state of bliss and oncoming slumber.

She no longer needed to worry about being denied cuddles but that was not always the case. She'd have been incredibly foolish to let go of this man who meshed so well with her life.

She might not be a real life princess, but she was about to embark on her happily ever after with a man more suited to her than anyone else she could ever have hoped existed.


	36. Chapter 36

"You look beautiful."

If she did it was all thanks to Penny, Bernadette, and Cecile insisting her hair and makeup be done to perfection. They'd convinced her to wear contacts—and what a battle putting them in had been—and essentially banned her from voicing any opinion on her hair and makeup until they were done. Amy would have been offended except she knew they wanted only the best for her and, to be perfectly honest, she could not have envisioned their result anyways. Best to turn over makeover duties to the beauty queen.

All dressed up and eager, she no longer felt the hangover from her bachelorette party the night before. It took Penny and Bernadette much convincing to get her to choose the dress with capped sleeves that were scandalously short as far as she was concerned but was downright modest according to Penny. In the end she was glad her friends talked her into the dress; they were right; it was made for her.

"Thanks mother," she said, aware of how seldom her mother complimented anything about her, be it her career, her personal life, or her looks, that she was going to bask in the joy of proving her mother wrong by saying 'Look! I am getting married even if you never thought I would'. Of course, she knew her mother always wanted the best for her, the reason they once had an agreement for her to date once a year in exchange for her mother's silence on the matter. Now things were different. She wanted to date because she wanted a special someone in her life, and now she was going to marry him.

"My daughter is a princess," her father said proudly.

"Thanks dad." She knew her parents were obligated to tell her she was beautiful, today of all days, but she enjoyed the compliments all the same. By some small miracle, she managed to set aside her differences with her mother for the wedding. Whether the peace would last or not was less certain, but while her mother behaved herself Amy would do nothing to rock the boat.

"Dave won't know what hit him." That time it was Penny, her bestie and her maid of honor. She was Amy's best friend even if Amy was Bernadette's maid of honor. Bernadette and Cecile were her bridesmaids. And to think she had friends at her wedding. Who ever would have known that a socially awkward child who never once had a friend until her late twenties would have two best friends and a close cousin who wanted to be part of her wedding party, not just because they were blood relations and were obligated to be there.

"You think so?" Amy asked. She was certain of her decision yet she could not contain her nerves. Perhaps it would have been easier to feel calm if the caterer had not called her only the previous day to say there was a shortage of Cornish game hen and to ask what she would like as a substitute. Or earlier that morning when the florist delivered the wrong order. Thankfully for her sanity, Penny descended on the florist in a frenzy and corrected the mistake, but it was still stressful having something go wrong the day of.

Everything was fine. She was in her dress with her hair and makeup done, everything was set and she and Dave successfully escaped the rehearsal dinner unscathed. If they could survive that they could survive anything together.

"When I get married I want to be as beautiful as you are, Auntie Amy," Jenna, her flower girl, declared. When Amy asked Jenna to be her flower girl, Mark became jealous. Once it turned out Dave's more distant relatives would be unable to attend the wedding given the long distance and expense, Mark was more than happy to fill in as the ring bearer in place of one of Dave's distant relations.

"I'm sure you will be," Amy said affectionately. Over the past year she and Cecile became closer, now Cecile was no longer blindly trying to irritate and insult her and Amy was calmer and better able to see eye-to-eye with her bubbly, light-headed cousin. Touring Jenna around her lab also worked in her favor. The result of that was she saw her niece and nephew more frequently, and she could not be happier. They were great kids and she was proud to have them both participate in her wedding.

Before she knew it, Penny, Bernadette, and Cecile were lined up next to her as her father escorted her down the aisle. She distantly registered all the faces in the small park turn to look at her but her eyes were only for the man at the end of the aisle who was watching her even more intently than the rest of the audience. She beamed with excitement at the intensity of his gaze.

This was it. She did not feel the least bit afraid as her father placed her hands into Dave's waiting ones and went to take his seat beside her mother in the front row. She beamed up at Dave, barely registering a the words Leonard spoke and content to simply look at Dave. He was handsome in his tux. His tall and lithe figure was built for formal wear and it highlighted his pronounced lines well.

They recited their vows to each other, and Amy barely registered her bridesmaids and mother crying profusely by the time the vows were exchanged. Not one for displaying affection in public, Dave kept their kiss short and sweet. There was no need for nauseating passion. There would be plenty of that come the evening once they were finally alone as newly weds.

Dave's three best friends flew in from England to be his best man and groomsmen, and after the ceremony they piled into the limo that would take them to the hotel for the celebration.

To Amy's dismay, Jenna insisted on sitting right next to her aunt and playing games in the car. Normally happy to indulge her, Amy wished for a brief moment that she could quietly talk to Dave. However, he seemed happy chatting with the friends he rarely saw since he moved and she was just as happy to sit back and watch them interact. It was fascinating. When they started dating, he was a bit of a loner, having a nonexistent social life compared to her. Then again, her social life was all because of Penny, not anything she herself had done. As they became more serious she started including Dave into her friend group. However, as she was more often than not with Penny and Bernadette without the guys, Dave found being the only male in the group a bit tedious and more often than not declined her invitations.

It was nice to see him with friends of his own.

When they arrived at the hotel Amy briefly excused herself upstairs to change her dress. Penny followed her to assist her with the removal process; it was a gorgeous dress but the tiny buttons down the back would be impossible for her to undo on her own, to say nothing of the tightly laced corset and layer upon layer of petticoats underneath that gave the dress its princess-like appeal. In retrospect, she wondered why she'd chosen a historically accurate dress.

Amy did not realize how ravenous she was as she waited for dinner to be served. With her nerves aflutter all day, she had not been able to tolerate more than a few bites of food throughout the day, but now the ceremony was over and she could relax, she felt the hunger hit her full force.

She felt on display at the center table, but this was her day and she was going to enjoy it.

"Ready for our dance?" Dave whispered to her once it appeared all the guests were done eating.

She put her hand in his and followed him onto the dance floor. The DJ made and announcement and she put one hand on Dave's shoulders just like she learned in the dance lessons they took to prepare for this moment.

"I love you," she said, in case she had not said it enough already. Dave returned the sentiment. The concentration required to perform the dance to perfection kept them from conversing heavily, but she was content to simply dance with him. The DJ called out to other couples to join them in decreasing length of marriage, but Amy hardly noticed as in small groups couples joined them on the dance floor. They could have been all alone for the amount of notice she paid to anyone else.

"I'm not wearing underwear," she whispered into his ear, thankful it was a slow dance that allowed them to be close together.

"Bloody hell," Dave breathed out, and she saw his face darken with his desire. "You actually did it. Why?" he asked.

Unclear if he was asking why she told him that or why she wasn't wearing underwear, she decided to answer the later.

"You only asked for two things today: me and no underwear. Here I am."

"The things you do to me, love." It was not a complaint. Not by a long shot. She could feel evidence of his growing arousal pressed up against her.

"Just wait till tonight," she purred. She did not know where flirtatious Amy came from but she liked her. From Dave's reaction he liked her too. "We have a socially approved night of copulation to look forward too and I'm a creative woman."

"Bloody hell. Are you trying to kill me?"

Then it was time for the father daughter dance, a much more relaxed dance.

"I'm proud of you, Amy. Not just for your choice of husband, who is a very good man, but for your success in your career and your passion. You're the best daughter I could have asked for."

"Thank you," Amy said sincerely, "I might not thank you enough, but thank you for everything dad. Now stop talking before you make me cry."

They both laughed at that and the rest of their conversation was more trivial.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Amy had no lack of dance partners, male and female, all eager to dance with the new bride, though aside from the first two dances, her favorite came when Jenna and Mark, hyped up on Shirley Temples from the open bar, insisted on dancing wildly on the floor.

At the end she was exhausted, and said her goodbye's to her closest friends and relatives before sneaking away with Dave.

"Help me with my back?" she said and turned her back to Dave. He fumbled for awhile with the tiny buttons, and once he was done she turned and gave him a peck on the lips.

"That's it?" he asked.

She winked at him. "Hardly. But Penny would never forgive me if I didn't wear the lingerie she insisted I buy for tonight."

"By all means, entice me," Dave waved grandly to the bathroom, and with a blush, Amy picked up her small bag and made her way into the bathroom. She took a deep breath as she slipped on the scandalous teddy. There was no way she would walk out of the bathroom and be seen in it, even if it was only for Dave's sight alone. Even if he'd already seen her completely naked. That seemed more modest than the skimpy, see-through garment even though she knew it wasn't.

 _You can do this, Amy,_ she silently encouraged herself. _Go on and knock him out._

* * *

AN: A few comments about responses to the last chapter:

No, Dave is not too perfect. He has flaws, but the narration is told from Amy's point of view and she is still in the new relationship phase and can't see them yet. I have, however, started to hint at those flaws.

Sheldon was not out of character. When he is surprised with news, he massively overreacts, and without Jim Parsons delivery and the rest of the cast's indulgently annoyed reaction, it comes across as mean and rude instead of clueless. Only 7% of communication is verbal. Most communication is body language and tone of voice, but without either, perception of the dialogue is very skewed.


	37. Chapter 37

"So how was your honeymoon?" Bernadette said when Penny answered the video call. Amy sure she looked like crap and glared at the cheerful girl.

"Terrible," she moaned, and resisted the urge once again to vomit. She just needed to assure her friends she was back, safely if that was the correct word for it.

"Oh no. What happened?" Penny asked.

"We got parasites." Amy could hear her new husband vomiting. Bad choice in going to Cancun for their honeymoon. She was never going back to Mexico again. Not when the fruit disagreed with her that much, and she was careful to only drink bottled sparkling water.

"Is someone vomiting?" Penny asked.

Amy glared at her with a silent 'what do you think?' that the two blond woman immediately understood and stopped talking.

"Excuse me," Amy said, her nausea getting the better of her as well. She was certain Penny and Bernadette could hear her over the video call but she did not care. She wanted to lie down and never move again.

When she returned to her desk, Penny said, "You should see a doctor."

"Really? I hadn't thought of that," Amy snarked, not in the mood to be patronized.

"Do you know what type of parasite it is? I can get you a few things from work," Bernadette offered, one of the first sensible things Amy heard out of her friends.

"That would be great. I have to go." She hung up, stayed sitting for a full minute hoping the nausea would go away, and when it didn't, she dashed for the bathroom yet again.

They kept two trash cans by their bed on either side, and though neither had the stomach for dinner, the water Amy forced the both of them to drink simply would not stay down. "We're never going to Mexico again," Dave said, exhausted and unable to sleep.

"Agreed," Amy said. Their romantic honeymoon was only romantic for three days before they got sick, presumably from the fruit as they only drank bottled water, and spend the rest of their two weeks in their hotel room.

Bernadette came over the next day and when Amy saw her offerings immediately invited her in.

"I brought over a few different drugs. This one is effective against a wide range of parasites but it's side effects may include vomiting, nausea, heartburn, or hiccups." Bernadette handed over one of the bottles. "Now, these only work on a few strains of parasites." Bottle by bottle Bernadette explained the side effects of each, and by the end of which Amy was not certain remaining sick was any better than the side effects of the drugs.

Bernadette left with a cheery "Get well soon," a sentiment neither she nor Dave appreciated.

The drugs Bernadette left them with worked, luckily sans side effects, and within a month the both of them felt better and were able to return to work. Thanks to the post-docs she took on right before she left for her honeymoon, she was not that far behind after her extended sick leave.

At their next girls night, for once at the Wolowitz household so Bernadette would not have to go anywhere, Bernadette was two weeks past her due date and looked about ready to burst. Not a week later, and after several false alarms, Halley Wolowitz was born. Unfortunately for the poor baby girl, she inherited her grandmother Wolowitz's vocal chords. Amy felt sorry for Bernadette and Howard having to listen to not only a baby crying but that particularly infernal sound. Between Bernadette and the late Mrs Debbie Wolowitz, the baby was doomed before she was even born.

Their first Christmas as a married couple came upon them rapidly. Unwilling to inflict her family upon Dave yet again, no matter how well he handled them, her friends were around for Christmas that year. She and Dave hosted the Christmas celebration. Leonard, Penny, Howard, Bernadette, Raj, and Emily all came over to her house, making quite the merry party. She discretely overheard that a certain someone was in Texas for the holiday and gave the matter no further thought.

Christmas was a success. Once again it was nice to spend a New Years with someone. As they did the year before they went to a party hosted by one of Dave's coworkers. They kissed at midnight, ensuring good luck for the upcoming year.

Had she been prophetic, she would have known the superstition to be false. As it was, she gave no stock to luck. Only chance and probabilities. For Valentines day weekend they went with Penny and Leonard to a resort in San Francisco. Penny and Leonard argued, leaving Amy and Dave to absent themselves from the couple's argument. It was not unusual for Penny and Leonard to fight, but she did worry for the state of her best friend's marriage. Meanwhile, her own concerns nagged at her stomach. When she went to see her gynecologist, she was more aware than ever she was rapidly approaching thirty-five. If she wanted children, and she did want them, she should best be starting soon. She just needed to find a way to bring up the subject.

Despite everything, life returned to normal. Dave became busy with preparing for his lessons and she resumed working on her addiction in primates study. Amy made an effort to meet up with Penny and Bernadette more often, and was successful at it. The boys did not join them more often than not, but as long as she had her two best friends with her Amy was content.

Whenever Jenna had days off of school, Amy would take her to work. The young girl had an endless fascination, though when Mark's jealousy ramped up over all the time Jenna got to spend with his aunt, Amy took him to the lego store and then out for ice cream alone. She would deliver the sugared up boy to a less than enthusiastic Cecile, but at least Mark was happy.

She even volunteered herself for babysitting duty. Cecile and her husband were happy to drop the kids of at her house for her and Dave to occupy. Dave liked the children well enough. He would spend hours throwing paper airplanes around the house with them, a favorite game though Amy worried they would break something. It was a much less amusing game when it was her house and not her mother's. On two separate occasions they managed to get the paper airplane caught in the lit flame from the gas stove. Only one of those times did it set off the fire alarm, though Amy was able to contain the damage well enough. Still, it was a game in the name of science and she did the best she could to encourage it despite the near misses with the fire.

Were she not content to indulge the three kids—for as she watched him run around like the others she was almost convinced her husband was still a kid as well, even if he was technically older than her—she would have had a heart attack from the sheer number of scrapes they managed to get themselves into.

"Auntie Amy," Jenna said to her on one such night. Amy set the spoon down and sat down at the island and invited Jenna to join her.

"What's up?"

"I got into science camp for the summer," Jenna said.

"That's great!" Amy enthused, "Where?"

"Maine. They bring in all sorts of scientists for us to meet, and we get to meet a real life astronaut, and we get to run all kinds of experiments. It's really prestigious and I got a scholarship for my housing."

"That's wonderful," Amy told her, though from the way Jenna fumbled with her fingers and stared blankly down at the marble countertop Amy suspected something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

"Mom doesn't want me to go."

Amy frowned to herself. She could certainly see Cecile not wanting Jenna to go to a science camp given how reluctantly she allowed Jenna to go with Amy to her lab. She also knew Jenna would love going to science camp, a luxury Amy never was afforded as a child no matter how much she begged her parents to let her go. Her mother would not hear of her spending the summer at a camp that had boys and she certainly did not want her darling girl immersing herself in science .

"Why not?" Amy asked, already resolved to see if she could work out a way to see the sense in sending Jenna to science camp.

"She said the plane ticket is too expensive," Jenna bemoaned.

Amy did not express her displeasure to the younger girl, but when Cecile dropped by the next day to pick up the children, Amy had Dave take them to the park right before Cecile arrived so that she could talk to her cousin alone.

"Mark? Jenna? Where are you?" Cecile called when Amy invited them in. "It's time to go."

"Dave just took them to the park."

Cecile pursued her lips and Amy thought that the deception was perhaps not the best way to go about the conversation at all. Too late to change plans now. She had to work on Cecile quickly or Jenna would loose her spot.

"Well, call him and have him bring the kids back."

Yup. Trust Cecile to issue a demand and not to thank her for taking the kids off her hands for a night and then sleep in the next morning, missing their planned pickup time. Not that Amy was unhappy to keep the kids longer, but it was rather rude of Cecile.

"Actually, there was something I was hoping to speak to you about first. Can I get you a drink?"

Cecile opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before giving a terse nod and sitting down at the couch. "A diet soda, please," she said.

Amy delivered the beverage iced and got a tepid water for herself.

"What did you want to talk about?" Cecile asked.

"Jenna told me that she got into science camp. I was kind of curious why you don't want her to go?" Amy thought it best not to come off as accusatory or demanding. That would turn Cecile against her before she was even given the chance to voice her opinion.

"Amy, it's science camp. Jenna has better ways to spend her summer. I was thinking soccer camp."

Amy just knew Jenna would be horror struck at the thought of being at soccer camp all summer and she doubled her efforts to sway her cousin's opinion.

"Well, I've actually heard of the camp Jenna applied to. It's really prestigious. They get to meet lots of scientists and run their own experiments. It's a great experience and it could help Jenna later on."

"How so?" Cecile asked, and Amy was glad she was not arguing. Yet.

"It could help her get into other science camps. Even into college one day."

"You want me to let her go. Jenna put you up to this," Cecile said suspiciously.

There went her feeble attempt at subtlety. "Yes," Amy agreed, unwilling and unable to lie, "but I really do think she'd like it. When I first took her to my lab I thought I'd have to constantly watch her, but she's actually helpful and she likes it."

"Really?" Cecile asked, because in truth she never asked Jenna nor Amy how their days at Amy's lab went. She simply didn't care to hear the details.

"Yes, really," Amy said. "It's an amazing opportunity for her."

"But it's a science camp. That's like school. Shouldn't Jenna want to play soccer or basketball or something over the summer? Be active?"

"Not necessarily," Amy said, knowing that while most children might prefer to be active, or to sit at home watching tv, Jenna was not like that. "Not all children want to play sports. I know it would mean a lot to Jenna if you let her go. And it might seem like school to you, but Jenna's really excited about the camp."

"Can I ask you something?" Cecile said, and Amy could see her thinking, actually thinking, about changing her mind.

"Go ahead," she offered.

Cecile looked directly at her. "You were always a weird child, preferring school and books to, well, normal activities. Would you have liked to go to a science camp?"

"Had I been allowed to, I would have gone in a heartbeat," Amy confirmed.

Cecile sighed in acceptance. "Does this mean Jenna can go?" Amy asked.

Cecile laughed. "She really did put you up to this. Clever girl. But even if I wanted her to go, she can't."

"Why not?" Amy asked. The way Cecile's shoulders hunched up she suspected she misstepped somehow, yet as she repeated their conversation in her head she could find nothing wrong with what she said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be nosey," she apologized.

"Don't be," Cecile brushed her apology off. "You're family. You should know." There was a long pause as Cecile took a deep breath. "Jack relapsed. He lost his job. The children don't know yet and I'm hoping I can get help for him before they notice something wrong, but I'm worried about him. That's the real reason I asked you to watch them."

Amy was not surprised Jack relapsed. Drugs were highly addictive, and while she found addiction a fascinating subject to study, she also understood why Cecile was in a difficult position. The woman had not known Jack when he was a teenager and going through the addiction the first time around. Amy remembered, and though she warned Cecile of his past, her cousin by marriage did not listen to her and married Jack anyhow.

"Anyways, I can't afford to pay for summer camp. Not with Jack out of a job and the mortgage."

Amy bit her lip, unsure whether she should offer or not at the risk of offending Cecile's pride.

"Jenna got a scholarship. The only thing she'd need is the plane tickets. I can chip in however much you need."

Cecile blinked at Amy, and she thought the woman was going to say no. "I really can't ask that of you."

"You don't have to ask. I'm offering."

She knew how she would feel if she was caught being unable to provide for her family and knew the inadequacy would be hard on Cecile. That her cousin did not outright reject her offer was startling.

"You really want Jenna to go."

"I want to encourage her passion for science. You know, because no one ever encouraged me." Even without support from her family she still ended up a world-renown neurobiologist, but she still wanted to help her cousin any way she could.

"Thank you, Amy," Cecile said, "Just don't tell the kids about this. I don't want them to know we're struggling."

Amy promised to say nothing to the kids. She and Cecile talked about Jack for a bit longer. Amy barely managed to restrain herself from talking about her findings from her research with how applicable they were to the current situation. The cold comfort of science would provide no reassurances to Cecile.

Cecile did not stay much longer once Dave got back with the kids, and once they were gone she told him about the situation. Dave listened patiently and once she was done recounting her conversation with Cecile, Dave affirmed that she made the right decision offering to pay for Jenna's ticket.

"If things are difficult with Jack, perhaps we could have Mark stay with us this summer. To get him out of that house. Like Jenna. If that would be helpful," Dave suggested.

The summer was still a couple months away, but once school was over for the year, Mark would be spending a lot of time at home with his unemployed father, something that certainly would spark the five-year-old to ask questions.

"That's a good idea. We could take him on weekends. Maybe we could see if UCLA or Caltech has some type of summer camp for kids his age as well. Then he could come to work with us as well," Amy said.

When she called Cecile with her offer, her cousin gratefully accepted, and Amy felt a bit guilty knowing what was wrong but not being able to do much more to help. Perhaps she should, but she and Dave were both busy with their work. They loved their jobs, but were often required to spend more than the usual forty-hour workweek working. As for her, she frequently had to spend evenings or weekends working depending on the phases of her experiments. However, if they could relieve a bit of Cecile's burden, she would be happy to help.

Jenna thanked her profusely the next time she saw her, no doubt aware that her good fortune in going to science camp was partially thanks to her aunt. Mark was excited by the prospect of getting to spend the weekends that summer with his aunt and new uncle. He lauded that fact over Jenna, saying that even if she got to go away to summer camp he got to spend time with their favorite aunt.

Amy grinned at that unintentional compliment. She liked the sound of favorite aunt. Cecile simply rolled her eyes, though Amy could tell from her pained expression that Jack was still a problem. She made a mental note to speak with Bernadette and see if the blond woman could procure something that would help ease Jack off of his addiction. She knew well enough that of the drugs currently FDA certified and on the market, there were limited in their effectiveness, but Bernadette might be able to get her something not yet approved.

Bernadette had a few options, and Penny suggested a few as well. As a pharmaceutical sales rep, she knew almost as much as Bernadette, though she could tell nothing of the mechanisms.


	38. Chapter 38

"You got home early today," Amy commented when she walked in the door to their house and was greeted by the scent of tomato sauce. She dropped her messenger bag onto its spot before making her way into the kitchen.

Dave briefly left the stove to give her a quick peck on the lips. "My last meeting of the day was canceled so I figured I'd come home early and make dinner."

"Fancy. What're we having?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs."

"Yum. How long?"

"Two hours probably. Why?"

"Just wanting to see if I had enough time to shower."

Amy returned to the kitchen feeling a lot cleaner after her shower. "How was your day?" she asked.

"Fine."

"Anything exciting happen?"

"No."

"Okay then. I'm out."

She sat down at the counter and poured herself a glass of the already opened bottle of Chianti.

"How was your day?" Dave asked instead.

"Today we stopped giving the monkeys their cocaine. It was a messy day. They started flinging poop at us."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dave absently said as he moved and sat down next to her at the counter.

"Don't be sorry. Next week we should know a lot more about addiction."

"And angry monkeys."

"Amy, there's been something I've been wanting to talk to you about."

Amy set down her wine glass twirled the stem between her fingers. "This sounds serious."

"Nothing's wrong. I know we talked about having kids one day."

"We did." Amy's heart started beating rapidly. He wasn't reconsidering. He couldn't be. She was not sure if she could handle that. She was growing older by the day and her years of easy childbearing were drawing to a close. If she had to wait much longer, the chances of complications and genetic diseases in her offspring would dramatically increase. Her fertility was already on the decline.

"You're...you're not changing your mind?" she hesitated to ask but she had to know the answer, had to know if her life was about to be thrown off track again, and this time there wasn't much she could do about it. They were married. Committed to each other. This time she couldn't simply leave because he didn't want children and she did. Only he did want children as much as she did. She knew that. She was worried for nothing.

He wasn't answering right away. He really didn't want children anymore. She wasn't sure whether she should be pissed of hyperventilate. She needed more time for the wine to take affect.

"No. Not that. Unless you've reconsidered?" Did he sound upset? She hoped it would be in her favor.

"No. I still want children."

"Me too. I was hoping that one day could be today." He looked hopeful and she felt her heart lighten instantly.

"Right now?" she asked.

"Not right this minute. We have to eat dinner first. But we can start tonight?" He wanted children. With her. Now. She could not have been happier. Her awful day at work forgotten with the wonderful news she just received.

"Yes. Yes. Absolutely. I'll stop taking the pill tonight. Let's have children."

"We're going to have children," Dave repeated after her and if she did not know better it was disbelief.

"We're going to have children." She felt her eyes watering with the sheer joy of it and tried to calm herself down. _Don't cry right now. You'll scare him off. You aren't attractive when you cry. That's Penny. Don't you dare cry, Amy, and ruin any chances of conceiving tonight._

Dave went to check on the dinner but Amy did not even notice that she was hungry. They were going to have children. She just wanted to skip dinner and go straight to their bedroom, but Dave got home early and cooked the wonderful smelling dinner for them and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

"It's ready," Dave said, turning off the stove and bringing their dinner over to the table.

Amy got out the dishes while Dave retrieved the parmesan. They ate their dinner, and while it tasted wonderful, Amy had to admit she barely noticed. She could not stop herself from looking at her husband in awe and eagerness. She was finally going to be a mother.

After they finished eating, Amy insisted on doing the cleaning. When Dave tried to protest, she scolded him for trying to help. "You made this wonderful dinner for us. The least I could do is clean up."

Dave finally sat back down and watched her clean, and once she was done, she dried her hands and walked over to him, feeling suddenly shy.

"Well..." she started. "Shall we?"

Dave held her hand and stood up as well, forcing Amy to tilt her head upwards to see his face as her very tall husband towered over her.

"Yes," he said.

She felt the fire as he kissed her and barely noticed as he guided her up the stairs to their bedroom. It was finally happening. She, Amy Farrah Fowler-Gibbs, was finally going the to be a mother.

Her elation lasted through the next couple of girls nights when she told her friends she and Dave were trying for children. She abstained from alcohol on the off chance that her eggs were fertilized and it was still to early to tell. Who would have thought that she would have a child before Penny, yet there she was. Married and ready to take the next step in her life. Bernadette was less enthusiastic for her. Amy suspected that was due to Halley preventing either of her parents from sleeping much. Call her a masochist but she was looking forward to that particular torture if it meant she could finally satisfy her longing to have her own child; she would later take back all such envy, but ignorance is bliss.

Wanting to share in her joy with all her friends, she invited them over to her house for dinner. Dave was kind enough to offer to grill burgers for them all, provided Amy took care of the rest of dinner.

When Penny and Leonard, Howard and Bernadette, and Raj and Emily all showed up at her house, for the first time Amy realized she and her husband were hosting her friends as a married couple. She and Dave had her friends over for dinner before but that was different somehow. Now they were an inseparable they.

It marked yet another foray into the adult world previously denied to her. She tried not to laud her victory over everyone, but how could she not? She and her husband were trying to get pregnant. She and her husband had houseguests. She had a husband.

Her husband was not a perfect man. Sometimes he rambled to much even though she found it cute and he occasionally still talked about Sheldon even though she would rather forget the pain her ex-boyfriend put her through, but all in all she had a good life.

Her cocaine addiction study produced statistically significant results which, when published, might finally have her track to widespread recognition in the scientific community. Maybe she might not get the Nobel Prize for her research as it was extremely unlikely even for the best of scientists, but her article was almost ready to be submitted to _Nature_. Just a couple more weeks to finalize it and finish analyzing the data and she would be ready to start on a new experiment.

Howard and Bernadette were the first two who showed up—no doubt arriving early after eagerly ditching Stuart to babysit Halley. She greeted her blond friend with a hug and invited them both inside. For Howard she got a Pepsi—diet, his wife insisted he watch his calories—and a glass of Pinot Grigio for Bernadette. Her remaining four friends arrived not soon after. Once everyone was there, Penny and Bernadette followed her into the kitchen to talk with her while she finished their dinner while the guys went outside to the grill.

"Do you think they can manage this?" Penny asked, watching the two physicists, the engineer, and the math professor contemplate the grill as if it was another one of their science experiments. It sounded like the setup to a bad joke.

"I don't know. Let's watch them try." Bernadette was eager to see if they would manage to screw up an operation as easy as turning on the grill, but when it came to the guys, they could be particularly obtuse about the mundane issues in life.

"I bet they'll find a way to start a fire."

"Twenty bucks they won't, bestie," Amy said. While she had no faith in her friends chosen partners, hers was a little more down to earth. Besides, it was their grill. Her husband had a hand up on its operation that the other guys.

"You're on."

"What do you think they're doing with the propane?" Emily asked when they observed the guys unhook the propane tank from the grill.

"I don't know but it can't be good." Penny seemed overly eager to watch four grown men completely fail at lighting a grill.

They moved the propane tank away from the grill and set it on the cement further away from the house.

"What are they doing?" Amy wondered aloud. Watching the four men engage in what appeared to be an argument did not clarify matters.

Penny picked up one of the pieces of watermelon on the counter.

"Save it for dinner, bestie," Amy scolded.

"At this rate there will never be a dinner," Penny protested and took a bite of the melon.

"I wouldn't let you do that if not for your pure heart and gorgeous golden locks."

"Umm, thanks?" Penny said while chewing. That unattractive habit was rendered less so by her best friend.

"Oh. Now they have a torch." Bernadette seemed fascinated. "Should we be worried? My little Howie doesn't deal well with pain and I'll have to take care of him if he burns himself. I already have one baby at home."

"Maybe we should stop this," Amy suggested.

Penny waved her hand in the air. "Nah. Let's watch them. Unless you're scared you'll loose the bet."

"I'm not scared. My husband will stop your husband's ridiculous antics and they will successfully make dinner."

"You sure about that? Oh, look, something is on fire. Pay up." Penny held her hand out towards Amy.

Amy fished in her messenger bag for her wallet and pulled out a twenty. "Fine. You win," she said bitterly, disappointed in Dave for not stopping whatever craziness was happening in the yard as there was, indeed, a fire and a great deal of smoke. At least the boys managed to start the fire far enough away from the propane tank it did not explode on them. That would probably catch the house on fire to say nothing of their own safety.

The four men trudged back into the kitchen.

"What happened?" the four girls asked in unison.

"I don't want to talk about it." That time it was Leonard. Penny narrowed her eyes.

"What did you guys do?"

"You know how we were going to have hamburgers?" Raj asked.

"Yes?" Amy resisted the urge to tap her fingers against the counter. She would not give into anxiety riddled behavior.

"They're kinda on fire."

"Howie," Bernadette scolded her husband.

"What's all the smoke coming from?" Amy asked.

"You know that monkey platter you really like?" Dave asked. For a giant he was looking a bit small to her.

"Yes." Amy tried and failed not to nag.

"Well, we will need to buy a new one."

"Unbelievable. I give you one job and the four of you can't do that. And get your hand off the watermelon, Penny."

Amy turned her glare from the men to her best friend who was, by that point, on her fifth slice of watermelon.

"What?" Penny shrugged. "You heard my husband. Dinner's off and I'm hungry."

Emily and Bernadette shared a look and reached for the watermelon as well.

"Et tu, Brute?" Amy said.

"Sorry, Amy, but Penny's right. We're starving and this is food." Emily was not the least bit remorseful as she bit into the watermelon.

"Fine. Have at the rest of dinner. I'll see if I can make something else."

"No need. We can just order pizza."

After searching through her fridge, Amy reluctantly agreed to get pizza delivery instead. There was not enough food left to feed everybody and she, too was hungry. The pizza only took twenty minutes to arrive, and the gang eagerly filled their empty stomachs. After a while, their friends all had to leave and once Amy and Dave were alone, she turned on her husband.

"What happened outside?" she demanded.

"What are you talking about?"

"Save it. You know what I'm talking about. What happened to the burgers?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. This was supposed to be their first night entertaining as a married couple and instead of eating a nice dinner they made together, he'd messed it up and they had to order pizza instead. To say she was unhappy would be an understatement.

"Oh. That."

"Yes that. What happened?"

"We lit the burgers on fire."

"I know. Why did you do it?"

"It was an accident."

"How hard is it to grill?" Her arms stayed cross as she glared up at him, wishing she had more height instead of him always towering over her.

"We broke the grill."

"Dave! That was a $5,000 grill we got as a wedding present. How could you break it?"

"I don't know. It just...happened."

"Unbelievable," she fumed, "Absolutely unbelievable. You couldn't just give me this one night, could you. No. You _had_ to go and ruin it."

Her voice became louder throughout her tirade and by the end she approached yelling volume.

"I didn't ruin anything. We ordered pizza. Crisis averted."

"That still doesn't change the fact that you ruined this evening for us." She was shouting and she knew she should stop but she just felt so angry. She wanted to impress her friends and instead she felt humiliated by her inability to cook even a simple dinner for them without messing it up.

"I didn't ruin anything." His voice was louder than she'd ever heard it before.

"Crisis not averted," she protested.

"Is this about the grill? I know it's expensive but I'll take it to get it repaired. And if that doesn't work, I'll buy a new one for you. It's not a big deal."

"But it is a big deal. How could it not be a big deal. That's a $5,000 grill and we're trying to have a child here. Do you know how much a child costs? Between the food and the clothing and the doctors visits and the hospital stay? And then we'll have to send our children to college. College, Dave. That costs a fortune."

"Our faculty discounts..." Dave started.

"And what if our children don't want to go to UCLA or Caltech? What if they go to Harvard or Yale or MIT? What then? We can't just ruin a brand new $5,000 grill anymore because we can't afford to replace it." She was putting everything way out of proportion. She sounded crazy. She knew that but she couldn't stop herself from venting. The words slipped out without her approval.

"Look, Amy, I said I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I promise. And we don't need a new grill. If I can't get it repaired we don't need another one. We only ever use the stove and oven anyways."

Amy wasn't sure what to say. She did not want to keep yelling at him and yet she could not just forgive him for his error but at the same time it was a minor offense and she should not be that upset over it. "You made me look like a fool in front of my friends. You ruined everything," she said instead.

"You didn't look like a fool. Your friends love you and had a great time tonight. So what if we broke the grill and burnt dinner? We got pizza instead. No big deal. Besides, three of your friends helped me make a mess of dinner. They are looking pretty foolish too."

Amy still felt cross but the logic of his argument appealed to her. Perhaps she was being irrational blowing up at him like she was. Maybe it was just her disappointment that her husband was as idiotic as her friend's husbands that had her upset.

"I guess," she reluctantly agreed, still unwilling to admit she was wrong. "It's just I wanted everything to be perfect."

"But it was perfect. Everyone had fun and wants to do this again. I'd say you succeeded. And this isn't about the grill or burning our dinner, was it? This is about something else?"

"Maybe," Amy reluctantly agreed.

"This is about children. You're nervous." Amy was stunned at how astute he was. She did not realize that was the reason she'd reacted as she had until he said it, but once he did, she knew it to be true. She was worried about her ability to be a good mother and was taking it out on him.

"I don't know how to be a mother. What if I'm like my mother and our children hate me?" She voiced the fears aloud for the first time. She hadn't had them until recently, but they came upon her suddenly as she realized the magnitude of what they were about to do.

Now she was calmer, Dave gave her a hug. Standing there in the middle of the living room, Amy felt herself starting to regain her center.

"Our children won't hate you. You'll learn how to be a mother and I'll learn how to be a father. And you won't be like your mother."

She wanted to believe him and feel reassured but the truth was she simply couldn't.

"How do you know that?"

She wanted to be as confident as he was.

"Are you going to lock our children up in the sin closet?"

"No!" Amy protested. She hated that and would never subject her kids to that.

"And will you force our children to date against their will?"

"No."

"And will you tell our children that they will go to hell if they have friends and boyfriends or girlfriends?"

"Absolutely not." Amy did not realize just how much she complained to Dave about some of the worse aspects of her childhood.

"Then I know you won't be like your mother."

"That's one of three," Amy agreed. He was right. She would not do the same things to her children that her mother did to her. She did not want to be that kind of mother, the one who forced her children to do things they hated and in return alienate them.

"But what if our children hate me anyways? What if I fail at being a mother?"

"They won't hate you because you'll love them and protect them. I know you, Amy. When you care about someone you care deeply. I know I'll be envious about how much you love our children."

"Hmmm," Amy said and nuzzled her nose against his chest. "I like the way that sounds. Our children."

"Our children. And do you know how I know you'll be a great mother?"

"How?"

"Because I've seen you with Mark and Jenna and those children adore you. You'll do even better with our own. I know it."

Amy pulled back just enough to see his face. "Really?"

"Really. You're beautiful, intelligent, and kind. You'll be a great mother."

She felt reassured, all her worries draining away.

"I'm still not pregnant," she reminded him. She felt calm. Relaxed. She wanted to stay in his arms forever.

"It's only been two months. Give it time."

"You know we could try again tonight?" she suggested. Make-up sex with her husband? She'd be behaving just like Penny and that thought was appealing in the extreme.

Instead of a yes, she received a kiss instead. She'd be a fool to complain about that.


	39. Chapter 39

With everything that happened: Dave's proposal, planning for the wedding, and the wedding and honeymoon itself, they hadn't had the chance to make it to another soccer game before that season ended.

Towards the middle of February, Dave approached her.

"You know how you took me to that soccer game?" he asked her.

Fixing their dinner, her hands were preoccupied and she could not push him off as he wrapped his much larger body around him. Stirring the sauce, she agreed. "Yes."

"How do you feel about gymnastics?"

Amy craned her neck as far up as she could to look at him. "Specify," she said. Gymnastics was one of the olympic events she watched with Penny and Bernadette, and beyond being impressed with the way the gymnasts could contort their bodies, she did not understand their fascination with the sport.

"There's a meet this Friday at UCLA. Would you be interested in going?"

Since they married, they went on dates less frequently, and when they did, it was almost always something she proposed. While not her first choice of activities, if the soccer match was still enjoyable she could not think of a reason she would dislike gymnastics.

"Alright. Let's go," Amy agreed.

"Good. Because I already got the tickets."

He must have gotten the tickets way in advance because the seats were in the lower bowl. As before they arrived an hour early to find parking and then to claim their seats. Amy looked at the set up. The floor, the beam, the bars, and the vault.

Questioningly, she looked at Dave. "Are there only four events?" She recalled there being more.

"This is women's gymnastics, so yes."

After the warmups, the UCLA team started on the vault while the other team went to the uneven bars. After watching the first two girls go, and seeing the scores, Amy still had no idea how they were determined.

"How is this scored?" she asked. While it was easy enough to figure out the scoring in soccer, this was far less concrete.

Dave did his best to explain it to her, and it helped as he narrated the actions while they occurred. It gave her a better sense of what was going on.

Unlike at the soccer game, she noticed that everyone cheered for both sides, though the UCLA gymnasts got louder and longer applause.

Although each event went by quickly, Amy tried to use her knowledge of physics to figure out how each move happened. Beyond flexibility and strength, there was also the scientific component. Kinematics governed every movement.

"She used extra energy," Amy noticed as one girl transitions from the low to high bar. If her mental calculations were correct, she could have spared herself a little bit of energy, though as she made the transition, she still garnered applause on her dismount.

Once she noticed she could reduce every movement down to physics, it became fun to run the mental calculations while she watched. If she and Dave both cheered, it was not for the same reasons. He enjoyed the sport. She enjoyed the science.

The sparkling leotards made it hard for her to concentrate on the exact action at hand, and once half the game was over, Amy was surprised to find it passed that quickly.

Checking the scoreboard, she found that UCLA was ahead by 0.23 points.

"You're enjoying this?" Dave asked. Although it was his idea and he clearly liked it, he wanted her to like it as well.

"I am," she confirmed. It was sweet of her husband to be concerned about her having fun as well. Though, with him around, she would be hard pressed not to enjoy herself.

"Maybe we could go to another one?" he suggested. He sounded hopeful and Amy could not stand to let him down.

"Of course," she agreed. "It's also basketball season you know." She only knew because she looked it up once she knew Dave liked a variety of sports.

She wasn't sure whether he liked basketball or not, but she would try that as well if it made him happy. It's not like she disliked the sporting events after all. They were not her favorite way to spend her time, but seeing Dave happy made up for his disinterest.

"I know. I didn't think you'd be interested, though, but—"

She cut him off with a kiss. "I think I could try one game. I might like it."

"No you won't," Dave said.

Fine. She probably wouldn't like the basketball game. "Maybe not. But I enjoy spending time with you."

"Alright then," he said. "But you can change your mind."

"I won't," she promised.

The next rotation was on beam. Unaware how it happened, Amy felt herself entranced by the motions, of the threat of falling off. It took balance, and sometimes, she could see the little wobbles as the girls fought to remain on the beam.

They finished off on floor. Amy noted it was similar to dance, but she was not very interested in dance either. Even so, she enjoyed the music and the routine, though Dave was more a fan than she was.

The snuck out as soon as the final routine was over. UCLA won by a small margin, but she didn't know the sport well enough to know if it was a blowout or not. The crowd was a bit disappointed their home team lost.

"Thank you for coming with me," Dave said when they finally arrived back at their house.

"I had fun," Amy said, and she actually meant it. Maybe there were some times she was a bit bored, but that was nothing new. For years she did whatever Penny and Bernadette wanted to do, even if she did not enjoy the activity. She could think of better ways to spend an evening, but there were much worse ways as well. "Besides, I can think of a way you can make it up to me tonight."

The suggestive smirk caused Dave to chuckle. "Is that so?" he asked, although he knew what she meant. "Just what did you have on your mind?"

"Well, I'm ovulating," she hinted. It wasn't a hint at all.

"You're distracting me with all your sexy talk," he said between kisses.

She grinned. Hopefully it wouldn't be that much longer before she became pregnant.

Her hopes would prove to be prophetic. She was two days late. It could mean anything. It could be stress or the pressure she felt at work now her experiment was wrapping up. It could be a placebo type of affect. She knew better than to jump to conclusions. And they'd only been trying for three months. Many couples had to try for a lot longer. It was unlikely and she could not deny the evidence she was late.

She felt jittery all day, barely able to concentrate as her thoughts repeatedly went to babies and baby related topics. It seemed it was all she could think about, and eventually she was sent home early to calm her nerves.

She went by the drugstore on the way home. She could be wrong but if she was the three tests she bought would confirm it soon enough.

 _Drinks 2nite?_ Penny texted her.

 _Rain check?_ She sent back. She desperately wanted to tell Penny her suspicions but Dave deserved to be the first to know. She took the tests and set them aside. She would wait for Dave to get home from work before checking the result. It was something they should do together.

Waiting was easier said than done. She attempted to read, all the while her mind distracted by the tests in the bathroom. Perhaps she should call Penny in the interim and tell her about her suspicions.

Fifteen minutes after Dave's usual arrival time he still wasn't home and Amy felt like she was about to go mad with suspense. She watched the second hand tick as three, five, eight minutes passed and Dave still was not home.

She startled at the sound of the garage door opening and she jumped up from her spot on the couch to peer out the window to confirm that it was Dave's car pulling into the driveway.

"Hi," she greeted him with a quick peck on the lips and tossing his messenger bag to the side, not caring that it was not in its correct spot.

"Hi," he greeted her.

Impatient, she said, "Follow me," and went to their bathroom.

"What's going on?" he seemed confused.

"Why did it take you so long? I've been waiting all day."

"A couple of students came right at the end of office hours needing homework help or I would have been here sooner."

She barely even heard him, and truth be told she did not care about the reason he was late. It was inconsequential.

"It's positive," she whispered. Then, louder, "It's positive. We're going to be parents."

She showed Dave the three positive tests, and he looked stunned for a moment.

"You're pregnant?"

She nodded her head yes, too overwhelmed to speak. "It's not certain. These tests can be wrong, but I'll go to the doctor and get the blood work done to confirm, but it looks like we're going to be parents."

"Amy that's fantastic!"

"I know."

"Let's go out to celebrate. Somewhere special? Anywhere you want."

"Italian?" she suggested, thinking of the most romantic type of restaurant to celebrate their news.

"Italian it is. But no wine for you."

Amy laughed. "No wine for me," she agreed.

The next day she scheduled an appointment with her doctor, and as expected those results were positive as well. She was pregnant.


	40. Chapter 40

"Please can we watch _Star Trek_. Please. Please. Please."

Amy was about ready to give into Mark's request simply to get him to stop begging. Although she and Dave failed to find a summer camp that was suitably academic for a boy his age, they still took Mark every Friday through Sunday. Cecile was glad to get him out of the house and, now she was expecting her own child in eight months, she wanted all the practice around children that she could get.

"But don't you want to read. _The Lord of the Rings_ is a classic." Though not her favorite book, she felt it had more value than sitting in front of the television, a trait she did not want to encourage. No. She would much rather Mark improve his reading skills. From what she saw, he appeared behind for his age. Exactly average according to the books she read, but behind if she compared his reading abilities to hers, or even Jenna's, at that age.

"I want to watch _Star Trek_."

No go.

"How about we read two chapters, and then you can watch an episode of _Star Trek_."

Amy send Dave a look saying thank you, to which he just shrugged.

"Alright," Mark reluctantly agreed. "But only two chapters."

"Deal," Amy said.

Once they were done reading, she turned on the tv for Mark to watch _Star Trek_ and retreated from the living room to find Dave.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine," she sighed. "Well. Not really. I tired of vomiting."

"I know," Dave replied, "I was there."

"I'm sorry," she said, "It's nothing. Really. I'm happy."

"I'm happy too."

He was earnest and eager and any maudlin feelings she was having vanished.

"I didn't think it would happen this soon," Amy admitted, for though she hoped it would, and was disappointed each month her lack of pregnancy was confirmed, now the time was there, it felt a little bit unreal at the same time it was terrifying. Despite all that she couldn't help but feel ecstatic.

" Are you upset?" Dave asked carefully.

"No. I'm just being silly," she said. "Ignore me."

The summer seemed to pass by quickly with preparing for the baby, her prenatal appointments, and watching Mark every weekend. Girls nights with Penny and Bernadette happened less often. Bernadette with her baby to watch after and Amy with Mark, the girls had less time to spend together, and oftentimes it would be the two of them babysitting together. Penny would briefly join them, but as she was not tied to a child, would eventually leave to hang out with the boys, claiming even science fiction movies at the theater were better than being cooped up in a house or the children's science museums Amy and Bernadette like to take the children to. Once Cecile's newest child was switched over to formula, Amy and Dave took on Max as well, making Mark a bit jealous for loosing his spotlight to his baby brother. As far as Amy was concerned, taking care of a baby was good practice for when she and Dave would have their own in a few short months.

At the end of the summer, Cecile asked to speak with her and Dave alone, so leaving Mark to watch over his baby brother, they retreated to the den.

Cecile looked nervous and Amy had to encourage her to speak. When she eventually did, Amy was not surprised.

"Jack isn't getting better," Cecile finally said. "If it was just about him, I'd be trying to help. But I need to watch the kids. Jenna will be getting back in a week, and I don't want the kids around him anymore. He's . . . off."

Amy and Dave both understood. "I'm getting a divorce," Cecile finally said, to which Amy expressed her sympathy but she was not surprised. She expected as much. Considering her cousin was hardly fit to be a father, she could understand why Cecile wanted to leave.

"I got a promotion but it's at the branch in Seattle," Cecile said. "I don't really want to leave, but I need the extra money."

"We understand," Dave said, "is there anything we can do to help?"

Cecile thanked the two of them. "I know you're trying to get ready for your own baby, and it's a lot to ask of you both, but could you look after the kids until the divorce. I've talked to my lawyer and with Jack's addiction and unemployment, it's likely I'll get custody and then I'll be able to move with them. But for now, I don't want them at home around Jack."

"You're afraid," Amy observed, now worried if Cecile should be around Jack.

"I am," Cecile said, "but not of him. He wouldn't hurt me or the kids, it's just best they not be around him any longer."

"We'll look after them," Dave agreed for her, already knowing that out of familial obligation and affection for her niece and nephews she would agree anyways.

"Thank you," Cecile said.

A week later, Cecile picked Jenna up from the airport and delivered her straight to Amy and Dave's house. Jenna was thrilled to see her favorite aunt again and to tell her everything about science camp. She talked her mother's ear off in the car on the long drive from the airport and while Cecile listened, she was not a scientist and did not understand the source of much of Jenna's enthusiasm.

"Why are we staying here?" Jenna asked when it became clear Cecile intended to leave her and her young brothers at the house.

The three adults looked at each other and Amy waited for Cecile to explain.

"Your father and I are getting divorced," Cecile said, a fact which Max was not yet old enough to understand and Mark, accustomed to spending the weekends with his relations, had not yet questioned the permanent change as strange. Now both Jenna and Mark looked upset, and Cecile silently pleaded with Amy not to give away the reason they wouldn't be able to see their father anymore.

With the start of the school year approaching, Amy found an undergraduate student in need of a job who was willing to drive the kids too and from school and daycare, and babysit them in the afternoons until either Amy or Dave got home.

As Cecile predicted, it was not long before the divorce went through and she was allowed to move the children to Seattle and take the promotion. Dave helped her pack for the move. Amy tried to help out, but as far along as she was in her pregnancy, Cecile and Dave insisted she not do any heavy lifting, which left her feeling mostly useless until she gave up her attempt to help entirely.

Amy and Dave were sad to see the children leave, accustomed to their continuous presence, but they also had a baby of their own to look forward too.

According to her OBGYN, the pregnancy was progressing well and they would soon be having a healthy set of fraternal twins, a boy and a girl.


	41. Chapter 41

It seemed to her that the more time she spent reading up on pregnancy and early childhood development the less she understood. Shamelessly, she dove into journals on developmental psychology and early childhood education, and yet still more questions emerged than she could answer. Ever a neurobiologist, she expanded her searches to encompass information from the Allen Brain Atlas and the BrainSpan Atlas, and yet that did just as much good as any of her other resources. Her relentless search for information, while it turned up a lot, appeared to be perpetually inconclusive.

Thus she began to meet up with Bernadette multiple times a week to ask her questions. When she could, Penny joined them as well, though on those days Amy asked fewer questions of Bernadette and Bernadette offered fewer anecdotes that, while scientifically weak, provided her with much needed insight. While she might not learn as much when Penny joined them, it was hardly a sacrifice as it meant she got to bask in Penny's mere presence.

One such day when Amy and Bernadette were by themselves, Amy asked, "When are you returning to work?"

Bernadette sighed. "I don't know. Soon." Her maternity leave was almost up. "I don't want to leave Halley but at the same time. . ."

"At the same time what?" Amy prodded. Unlike Bernadette, she knew upfront she could not take her full maternity leave, even paid. Her research needed her. Or she needed it. It was hard to tell sometimes, but the allure of the human brain drew her in. It was one of humanity's greatest unsolved puzzles. She was caught up in the compulsion to know more. To discover more.

"I also want to be a good role model. I think it's important to show Halley that women can have a career and a family."

"Halley won't remember much from her first couple of years," Amy said.

"I know. But still. I do want to go back to work. It's just . . . hard to think about leaving her."

Vaguely, Amy remembered when Bernadette was staunchly against ever having children. It had nearly become a deal breaker to Howard when he found out, yet in the end the couple stuck together. Halley might not have been planned, but she was loved.

"I remember you once said you would never have children."

Amy did not realize she even said that aloud until Bernadette looked at her oddly. Perhaps she should apologize for being too frank, and yet she was unapologetically who she was.

"I did think that. Things change," Bernadette said. Was that wistfulness, or exhaustion? Or maybe something else. She might be perceptive but even she had her limits.

"Excuse me," Amy said as she abruptly stood, using the table as leverage to help her up more easily. "Bathroom," she explained. "The twins are playing tap dance on my bladder."

For the second time during their lunch she had the need to relieve herself. Nervous though she was for the twins birth, she was eager for the aches and pains and inconveniences of pregnancy to come to an end.

"I don't envy you," Bernadette said when Amy rejoined her at the table.

Amy poked her fork absently at the crumbs on her plate. "Thanks ever so," Amy said wryly. It would be over soon enough.

As Amy saw Bernadette more frequently, so too did they resume their weekly girls night, though Amy noticed there were several differences from when they first started their tradition in years past. They no longer stayed out late at bars. Between her pregnancy, Bernadette's infant, and Penny outgrowing the heavy drinking of her early twenties, none of the three of them could stay up as late. Instead of going to bars where she and Bernadette could not drink, they went to pottery or painting classes instead, if they made it out at all. Occasionally, they would go out to the movies or a dinner. Most often, they would rent a video on Amazon and watch it from the comfort of one of their homes, or simply sit around and talk.

The evolution of their friendship was inevitable, Amy supposed. It had been easy for her to become caught up in the whirlwind of new love, and for her to consequently drift apart from her friends to spend more and more time with Dave. Yet she could not deny the relaxation and comfort that came from talking about everything and nothing with her friends. Be it serious conversations or idle gossip, there was a bond between them. One she'd been foolish to let weaken. She understood that now.

With Bernadette's return to work, less of girls night was consumed by talk of babies, much to Penny's relief.

"And then that skank . . ."

". . . No way!"

"Yes way. Nothing she hasn't tried before."

". . . friend zoned . . ."

Penny and Bernadette could gossip about their coworkers to no end. Be it a coworker attempting to sleep her way to the top or who was dating whom, they had no end of gossip. She listened, and most of the time it was funny or interesting, though at other times it became boring, listening to stories about people she'd never met. It brought back old memories from her childhood about being left out.

Their talk was exclusionary, and while they did not do it to be mean, the rational part of her knew, it hurt all the same. Maybe it was just her pregnancy hormones getting to her. She tried not to make a big deal out of it. After all, she'd found herself alternatively laughing and crying at commercials, unable to help herself. It was frustrating for her emotions to be constantly bounced back and forth like a ping pong ball.

"And then Betty . . ."

"No."

"Yes."

"You're lying."

"I swear I'm telling the truth."

All of a sudden she was no longer in Bernadette's kitchen talking with her two best friends. She was in college. Her lab partners choose her because she was reliable Amy Farrah Fowler. If anyone could get them to pass anatomy lab, it was her. She knew her partners only choose her for her smarts. They intentionally talked about the frat parties they went to to exclude her.

Once, she went to one of the parties they talked about. She even purchased a toga to go along with the theme. She passed out and woke up with more clothes on than she came with. Humiliation flooded through her as she fled to the safety of her dorm room, glad her roommate was gone and not there to witness her tears. Her shame, at least, could be personal.

She was studying abroad in Norway. The other students spoke English. She knew they did. Their coursework was done in English. And yet each time she tried to talk to them, they brushed her off. They pretended not to understand her language. She learned Norwegian in what little time she had. They still pretended not to understand her. Her accent was too strong. Her Norwegian not good enough.

She was supposed to spend a couple of hours in the boiler room. It was the price to pay to be a part of their group, she was told, only they forgot about her for a week. No one ever remembered her even when she was right there.

She was younger still, this time in high school. She had no friends. Spitballs found their way into her hair often. Her date to the prom was a mop. She was younger than her peers by one year, and yet that small age difference seemed an impassable gap. She could grow wings to fly across the divide and yet the wind would push her back and make her journey impossible. They keyed her car and threw rocks at the window, once while she was driving. She tried to go to administration to sort out the bullies, yet nothing changed. Her mother grounded her for the damage to the car. She tried to explain that it was not her fault but to no avail. If her mother had to pay to have it repaired, it was all Amy's fault. It was unfair yet that was the way it was.

More recently, and most hauntingly of all, was when she first met Penny and Bernadette. She craved their acceptance. They hadn't liked her. They'd searched for ways to avoid her, and it was only through her persistence that they even included her at all. She had to invite herself to girls night, becoming so insistent that they did not feel comfortable turning her away.

She marked her scent on their objects as many animal species would. Her persistence eventually worked. They were her friends. They liked her.

They gossiped about people she did not know, leaving her feeling left out of the conversation. She was surrounded by people yet alone.

Against her will tears formed. Damn but she hated crying so much.

"Amy? Are you alright?" Penny asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," she said, though clearly she was not. The flashbacks, the uncertainty, she should be past all that now. She didn't want it. Yet there it was.

"You don't look fine," Bernadette said.

It was girls night and there she was ruining it with her selfishness. "Could you not talk about your work right now." She felt like a bitch for saying it. They should be able to talk about whatever they wanted. She knew that. She was being unreasonable. Yet she could not help it. It was beyond her control.

"Sorry. What would you like to talk about?"

Beautiful, caring Penny. She was an idiot for thinking that Penny could intentionally hurt her. They were best friends.

"I don't know," Amy said. Unreasonable could be her new middle name.

Bernadette handed her a box of tissues and she dried her face. Luckily, it stayed that way.

"So Leonard made me watch that new _Thor_ trailer like ten times in a row," Penny said.

"Howie did the same," Bernadette said.

Amy laughed. That was normal. Comforting. She felt better already.

"I haven't seen it yet."

"Don't. It's really boring," Penny said.

"But Chris Hemsworth . . ."

". . . Is hot," Amy finished.

They ended up watching the trailer anyways, with frequent pauses to admire certain . . . ahem . . . muscles. Needless to say, Penny and Bernadette much preferred watching the trailer with Amy than they did with their husbands.

"You know, I think Loki's kinda hot too," Bernadette said and paused the trailer yet again.

"Eww," Amy said. "He so isn't."

"Yes he is," Bernadette insisted.

"Wait," Penny said, pulling out her phone. "What's the guy's name again?"

"Tom Hiddleston," Bernadette replied far too quickly.

Penny repeated the name slowly as she typed it in. "Hmm, not bad," Penny said.

She turned the screen towards Amy and she did have to admit that when not dressed as Loki, the actor was noticeably more attractive.

"Not bad," Amy agreed reluctantly, "Though I still think Chris Hemsworth is more attractive."

"I'm with Amy on that one," Penny backed her up. Amy smiled. It was good to be back with her friends again.

Idly they gossiped and talked, but inevitably she found herself growing tired and excused herself to go home.

"Amy?" She had barely stepped into the house when she heard him call out to her.

Dave sounded sad. Very sad. When she found him he appeared to be on the verge of tears, though to someone who did not know him well he would still appear composed. That alone was enough for her to usher him to the couch as she waited for him to talk.

Holding his large hands with her two little ones, she asked with no little degree of trepidation, "What is it?"

"It's my mother. She's...she's been diagnosed with Alzheimers."

Without more information, Amy was not sure what to say but her mind was already racing with the difficult news Dave relayed. She focused on keeping her breathing calm. With her being four months pregnant, she could not afford a high stress level.

"Her physician called me. She's had it for about five years but it was progressing slowly up until now."

"And now?" Amy asked. As a neurobiologist she knew quite a lot about neurodegenerative diseases, but aside from the scientific aspects of the disease, she knew the emotional consequences on the family members as well.

"The doctor says her condition is worsening and he suggested hiring a live-in nurse for her."

It was that bad already? After going undiagnosed for that many years Amy wondered at the sudden turn for the worst but she knew full well the disease had many forms. For some it came on slower than for others. She began thinking of possibilities. They could hire a live-in nurse for a short time, but that was not a permanent solution. Besides, if it was one of her parents she would not want to hire a nurse for them an be done with it, and her relationship with her parents was strained at best. Dave had a strong relationship with his mother. She couldn't imagine him not wanting to take care of her personally.

She swallowed hard. California was her home aside from her short stints at Harvard and in Norway during her study abroad. She loved her current job but at the same time it was harder working there now that she had to make an effort to avoid Sheldon to honor his request that they not even be friends. And, if she was honest with herself, it was equally hard having to schedule time with her friends when Sheldon would not be there. Because he lived with Leonard and Penny, he always seemed to make plans with them before she did, and while she could not resent that of him—she had Dave after all—her social group came through him and though they promised she was their friend as much as Sheldon, she felt slowly pushed more and more out of their lives. She might be seeing Penny and Bernadette as frequently as ever but her interactions with the guys were not rare.

Perhaps it would be nice to make a change in her life and start afresh. Maybe it was what she needed now she was about to enter into a new phase of her life.

"I'll start looking for a job in London," she said, "I'll finish my current study in a couple of months, and then I'll have to stay until after the twins are born to fly there, but we can make this work." She gave Dave's hands a reassuring squeeze though her expression did not brighten.

The news must come as a shock to him. With them far away, she had only met her mother-in-law via Skype before the wedding. Now they would be moving to a new country to take care of her. It was a lot to take in but it would be for the best. Dave would want to be with his mother to take care of her for her last few years and Amy did not want to be separated from her husband.

"You want to move to London?" Dave asked. He knew his wife was a very selfless woman but that was a generous offer even for her.

"If you want to," Amy assured him and as she did she pulled one of her hands away and rested it on her belly.

"I do. But Amy, don't you think that is a big decision to make?" Dave asked.

The way he thought about her first endeared him to her all the more. Tall and lanky and with a sexy British accent, she simply could not resist him.

"It is. But your mother needs you and I think it would be good for us to move and make a new start." The rest of her words went unsaid. They could go and make a new start in a place far away, just as Dave did when his ex-wife left him for a Frenchman.

Dave seemed cheered by the idea now that he knew he had Amy's support and not her reluctant acquiescence. "My mother has three empty bedrooms in her house. We can live there while we take care of her. I'll start looking for new a job as well. If you're sure about this, then I think we can make this work."

When Amy married him, she did not expect they would end up moving to England, and especially not soon into their marriage. Then again, life was ever rarely what she expected. It was going to be a big change and even harder with them expecting two new babies and taking care of Dave's deteriorating mother. Though she did not feel ready for all the changes suddenly sprung upon her, she knew she and Dave could do it.

"I think so too," Amy agreed.

Dave leaned over to kiss her forehead. She laughed at the familiar gesture mainly spurred on by their difference in height. With his genes, both of their children were likely to be taller than her.

Dave stood up from the couch, and when Amy looked at him quizzically, he said, "Thank you, Amy."

A soft smile settled over her lips as she looked at her new husband. "You don't have anything to thank me for," she protested gently. He came to her with a problem and she came up with the best way to fix it.

Dave sighed. "I just feel bad. We'll be moving with newborns as if it won't already be difficult enough for you with two new babies, you'll also have to find a new job in a new country and . . ."

Amy silenced him with a kiss, a trick she knew was always effective with him.

"We will make this work. I promise." She smiled at him sweetly and felt her heart melt just a little bit at his clear relief. Was he worried that she still would not want to move? That she would have wanted to hire a live-in nurse to take care of her mother-in-law until she died in a couple of years? Regardless, sudden as it might be her mind was made up. There was only one obvious solution to their problem.

"Good. Good. Excellent." Amy loved the cute way Dave stuttered once he became nervous. He did it around her far less often now they were married, but when he did she found it adorable. "If it's not too much to ask, would you mind coming upstairs with me? That is to say..."

Amy cut off his rambling with another kiss.

"Let's go upstairs," she agreed and stood up from the couch. Dave did not need to be told twice before leading the way up to their bedroom.


	42. Chapter 42

Two days later, Amy waited nervously for her friends to arrive. Dave found a way to absent himself for a few hours—she wanted her friends over at her house for their girls night this time. If Penny and Bernadette found it strange she was inviting them to her place for girls night instead of going over to Penny's as was the norm, well, they would find out the circumstances soon enough.

She bounced up when she heard the doorbell ring and let her two friends in. They both looked eager for girls night to start, but her apprehension must have shown because Bernadette asked, "Is something wrong, Amy?"

"No." She forced a smile. Nothing was wrong. All the change that was coming up was according to her plans. Her desires. "Everything's just fine. But there is something I have to tell you."

She led them to the living room and they sat down. Briefly she wished Dave had decided to stay there for moral support more than anything else, but she quickly shook herself of that notion. These were her friends and it was her idea. She had nothing to worry about, yet she still worried.

"What's up?" Penny asked once they were seated and Amy poured her and Bernadette two glasses of wine. She settled for water, wishing that she could drink to ease her nerves and make telling them easier, and yet she could not. She knew the numerous negative affects of alcohol on fetal development.

"I'm moving to England."

Amy saw Penny took a big gulp of her wine. "What!" Penny exclaimed.

Amy stiffly sat on the edge of her seat and faced her two friends. Looking up at them both and their concern, she found the nerve she needed to continue.

"Dave's mother has Alzheimers, so we're going to move to London to take care of her. We won't go until after the twins are born—" her hand settled overtop of her stomach as it always did whenever she referenced her babies "—and the timing for this could be better. But Dave has friends from university who are going to help him find a job there, and with my study almost finished I should be able to find a new job."

"I can't believe this," Bernadette said.

"We're going to miss you, Amy," Penny said, and then she became suspicious, "but do you want to move?"

"I suggested we move. He's been really supportive. And to be honest with you, I think it will be good for me to leave."

"You can't be serious?" That time it was Bernadette.

"I think it's for the best. It isn't ideal that I have to either see or avoid a certain person at work every day. It will be good to get away from things here. I . . . I'm done living in the past. I'm ready to move forward with Dave and starting over in London is as good a place as any."

As she explained her thoughts, she felt nostalgic about all her memories from Pasadena. Here her two friends helped her grow. All the childhood and teenage experiences she missed she made up for with Penny and Bernadette. They were her first real friends, and she knew they helped her grow into the person she was today. She would miss weekly girls night with them. She would miss having them around all the time whenever she needed advice. She would keep in touch with them once she left, but it would no longer be as easy or convenient. She could not just simply show up at Penny and Leonard's apartment when she wanted to talk to her best friend. She'd have to wait for a time when they were both awake to call.

"You really want to go?" Penny asked.

Amy nodded. "I do."

"Then I'm happy for you, Amy. And just think, England. You'll get to meet a lot of hot British guys."

That was one of the reasons Penny was her best friend. She was able to put a light spin on anything to make everyone feel better. Flippant though it was, Penny's words did cheer her up a bit.

"I already have a hot British guy," Amy said.

Bernadette winked and nudged her in the side. "Yeah you do, girl," she said.

Amy laughed. She was done being morose for the evening. She would enjoy girls night with the girls, and she still had months before it was time to move. _Deep breath, Amy. You can do this. It's for the best._

"And on a related note, I have a question for the both of you."

Penny and Bernadette exchanged a look with each other.

"Alright," Penny said.

Amy inhaled deeply. "I was hoping the both of you could write references for me. For my visa application."

"I'd be happy to," Bernadette immediately agreed, and while Amy was glad for it, it also stung. Her second best friend was going to help her move away. "What do I need to say?"

"Dave and I decided to hire an immigration attorney, just to make sure we fill out all the paperwork." She'd started reading up on the visa application on her own, but with the time consuming nature of her work, she simply did not have that much time to dedicate to the task. Dave didn't either. Though the attorney was expensive, as was the visa application, she and Dave finally hired an immigration attorney even though they could have read everything on their own had they the time for it. "Pretty much, we learned we have to prove we're in love."

"That's a bit personal," Penny said.

She wasn't wrong, Amy had to acknowledge. As she began compiling the lengthy visa application, she included everything from pictures of them, their wedding invitations, and a copy of the ultrasound. Anything and everything she could think of to prove they were in love. Then there were the bank statements and statements for all her assets. Their marriage certificate. In one hefty file was a compilation of all the most intimate aspects of her life.

It wasn't that she was a modest person. She wasn't. But to compile all of those highly personal things to be evaluated by a complete stranger at the consulate to determine if they were in love. It was intrusive. Yet it had to be done.

"It is. Will you write a letter for me?"

"I don't want you to leave, but I'll do it," Penny said.

Amy let out a sigh of relief. She did not know just how much she needed her best friend's support. "Thank you," she said.

"I'm going to miss you," Penny said.

"Please don't talk about that right now."

While the decision to move had been logical and easy to make, she could not stand the thought of saying goodbye prematurely. If she allowed them to remain on that topic much longer, she would start crying. She didn't want to cry. Not yet. That would come later, when she finally had to say goodbye.

As always, Penny managed to drink more wine than Bernadette. Amy thought about her mother and would have to laugh. For once she was actually fulfilling her mother's admonishments to not give into peer pressure to drink alcohol. For a different reason than her mother would have desired, but it was ironic all the same.

By the time it was getting late, Amy heard the tell tale sound of the garage opening and closing. She looked around the living room. It was a mess. No wonder they always held girls night at Penny's. It was already messy there and a little more made no difference, but both she and Dave liked to keep their house clean.

With them moving for the foreseeable future, they'd either have to rent out their house and sell it. Yet another item to add to the to-do list.

"Hi," she smiled and kissed him when he entered. "How was your night?"

She was acutely conscious of the way her two friends watched her and her husband interact. While she was not very comfortable with displaying affection in front of others, this was Penny and Bernadette. It's not like they didn't know everything that went on between her and Dave anyway. A chaste kiss was acceptable.

"Oh. Good. Fine. Just fine." She loved the way he awkwardly stuttered even around her.

"Good," she smiled. Then she looked at her friends who were staring at them both. "I should probably drive them home now."

"Hey!" Penny protested. "I can drive."

Amy shook her head. "Not tonight you can't," Amy said firmly. Turning to Dave, she continued, "Come pick me up from Penny's in an hour?"

"Of course," he said.

"Good." Amy turned away to find Penny's car keys and ushered her two friends out the door, but she didn't leave before giving Dave one final kiss. Things were going to fine. She had to believe that.


	43. Chapter 43

Amy quickly dropped Bernadette off at her house and then drove Penny back to 2311 Los Robles. She would miss this building. She spend a lot of time there over the years. She helped walk her friend up the stairs; Penny protested she was fine but Amy knew she wasn't. She loved her bestie but that girl could really drink sometimes. As they came to the fourth floor, Amy held her breath as she and Penny walked to 4B.

Amy forced down the twinge of anger she felt at Penny's loud talking and giggling. With her volume that late at night, she was bound to bring an angry Sheldon down upon them for disturbing his sleep.

When Penny fumbled with her key in the door, Amy pushed her to the side and did the job faster. She needed to get out of the hallway before a certain someone might appear.

She was over him. She did not regret breaking up with him even if she still missed him from time to time. She married Dave. She loved Dave. She was finally on the verge of having the children she desired. That was all that should matter, but the truth was she would never really be over Sheldon. He was her first love and a part of her could never forget that even as she moved on in her life. That was one of the reasons she needed to move; she needed a fresh beginning with Dave as they started their family.

Amy unlocked the door but Penny was reluctant to enter.

"But Amyyyyy," Penny protested as Amy tried to usher her inside, and then she broke down giggling.

"I don't wanna go to sleep," she protested.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Just go in," she said and pushed Penny inside. However, her escape route came too late. The door to 4A opened and she heard the thud of footsteps walk halfway across the landing before they stopped.

Penny took Amy's distraction as an opportunity to skip back out into the landing. "I don't want you to leave me, Amyyyy," she sang a bit.

Amy did not want to turn around. She did not want to see who was there. It could be Leonard, and then he could tend to his wife in her drunken state while Amy hunkered down in Penny's apartment until Dave came to pick her up.

Why couldn't Bernadette have driven the two over? She'd much rather wait at Bernadette's house.

"Where are you going?" A curious voice couldn't help but ask.

It wasn't the voice she wanted to hear. It was the voice she wanted to avoid.

"Hi Sheldon," she said.

"Where are you going?" Sheldon repeated the way he always did when something did not make sense to him.

She really did not want to have this conversation now. It was late at night and he was in his pajamas and she hadn't seen him in a while, but damn was he sexy with his sleep ruffled hair and his childish cluelessness. No. It was simply her exhaustion talking. That was it. Nothing more.

Amy barely noticed as Leonard tried to get Penny to go into 4B and she protested, wanting instead to watch her and Sheldon. Luckily, Leonard won their argument and dragged a reluctant Penny back into 4B to give the two privacy.

"It's late, Sheldon. Go back to bed." Amy urged. She was reluctant to tell Penny and Bernadette, but she really did not want to tell Sheldon. She had no reason to dread it. They were capable of being perfectly amiable now even if they were not even friends anymore but it was late at night and she was not in the mood for a heavy conversation.

"Where are you going, Amy?" Apparently they would be having this conversation. She could never resist him when he pleaded with her with his childlike innocence.

"I don't want to talk about this right now, but fine. You win. You always get your way, don't you. You wanted to know so here it is: I'm moving to London."

She had not meant to snap at him. It just came out. With years of pent-up frustration at him, it was easier than she thought to just let go. Especially when she had no motivation to remain civil.

She expected Sheldon to defend himself, but he didn't.

"London?" For a man she had not spoken to in months he seemed surprisingly vulnerable at hearing she was leaving.

"Yes, London."

"London, England?"

"Yes, Sheldon. What other London is there?" For a genius he could be stupid sometimes.

"There's London, Ontario. London, Arkansas, London, Minnesota, London, California. London, Ohio. London, West Virginia. London, Wisconsin. There are a lot of Londons, Amy. You need to be more specific."

"Fine. Sheldon. I'm moving to London, England. Now would you just go back to bed and leave me alone."

"But you can't leave," Sheldon protested. He looked sad. Damn she was not going to give into him. She resisted before and she would again. She was happy now. For everything in her life she was uncertain about she was still happy. She had her husband and her unborn children.

"Yes, Sheldon, I can. You don't have any right to tell me what I can and can't do." The unspoken _not anymore, not for a long time_ , hung over them both.

"Yes I do. You must notify me of all trips prior to 72 hours in advance. It's in the relationship agreement."

She did not have to say anything before Sheldon realized his mistake. He blushed lightly and there was a time it would have been endearing to her. Now it was just annoying.

He refused to give her what she needed and now he would not let her go.

"We terminated the relationship agreement a long time ago, Sheldon."

He looked down at his feet and she felt the insane urge to comfort him. Even when he was annoying she did not want to hurt him but she was moving to London with her husband and her ex-boyfriend who she had not talked to in over a year had no say in the decisions she and her husband made.

"Oh. Very well." Sheldon capitulated easily. She waited for him to go back to his room now the conversation was over but he didn't. He stayed with her on the landing shuffling his feet and looking anywhere but at her. He looked guilty of something but of what she did not know.

"Is there anything else?" she asked, softly this time. No need to hurt him. They were broken up for a long time and she moved on with her life. He should have as well. There was no reason they could not talk civilly like the adults they were. He decided they couldn't be friends, but that didn't mean they could not speak with each other.

Sheldon looked up at her and their eyes met. There was something there she could not determine. In another man she would say it was jealousy or desire, and while she knew Sheldon was capable of both, she also knew that was not it at all. It was something else that was bothering him.

"I believe social convention dictates that I congratulate you."

"For what?"

Sheldon opened his mouth multiple times, and it wasn't until his fourth try he was finally able to say something. "Your pregnancy." He sounded like he was swallowing poison as he said it, and Amy recognized the nervousness for what it was: anger. For what she did not know. She had done nothing wrong. She wanted children and she would finally have them. Sheldon was not entitled to voice his opinion on the matter.

However, he did congratulate her and she needed to respond in kind.

"Thank you, Sheldon."

"Yes, well, you won't feel thankful when you're the size of a metaphorical whale and void your bladder every ten minutes."

And there it was. He simply could not be pleasant for any length of time without saying something hurtful, even if it was not his intent. She suspected he did not mean anything by his comment, but with him it could also be difficult to tell.

Regardless, she would take the high road and avoid a fight. She bit her tongue. Sheldon was not done speaking however.

"If you were as intelligent as I am you would have resisted your biological urges to become pregnant and you would not have to experience nausea, vomiting, parasitic growth..."

Amy magnanimously resisted the urge to knee Sheldon where it would hurt the most.

Stepping closer until she was right next to him, she put her finger on his chest and glared up at him. "Don't you dare say anything else about my life choices, Sheldon Cooper. You do not have that right and you never will."

She felt a buzzing in her pocket. Perhaps it would detract from the power of her statement but if it was Dave come to pick her up she could get out of there and away from Sheldon.

Amy checked her phone and it was a text from Dave telling her he was waiting downstairs. "Now. My husband is here to pick me up. Goodnight." She was angry at him. Furious even.

"Goodnight," Sheldon said as she turned and walked down the stairs. She heard a quiet, "Don't leave me, Amy." She barely heard it and she was sure Sheldon did not intend her to hear, but it made her mad all over again. How dare he think he had some right to tell her what to do with her life? He gave all that up when he insulted her time and again. She focused on her breathing but it had no effect on her mental state.

She slid into the passenger seat of the car and buckled in her seatbelt. She did not say anything. She simply sat there waiting to leave.

"Is something wrong?" Dave asked. She wanted to sulk but his sexy British accent had her wanting to tell him everything already. "Did Penny upset you?"

"What?" Amy asked, startled. She occasionally fought with her bestie but it was hard for her to remain angry at Penny for long. That woman was as near to perfect as it was possible for a woman to be. There wasn't anything she would not forgive Penny for. "No. Of course not. Penny didn't do anything."

"Then what is it?" Dave asked, "Have you reconsidered moving? Because if you have we don't have to move—"

"—It's not that either," Amy cut him off. She did not want him to think she was having second thoughts about moving. It was not an ideal situation but she was, in a reluctant way, looking forward to the change. She needed the change at the very lest. Tonight proved that much. She did not want to admit it to herself but Sheldon still affected her more easily than he should have. She should not have let him get to her that quickly. Moving might very well be the only way to solve her problem.

"I ran into Sheldon," she said. Once she and Dave became serious she told him that Sheldon lived across the hall from Penny. She would feel guilty not telling him, and she assured him that he had nothing to worry about if she did run across Sheldon. They were over.

"I see." She could not tell whether that was a good or bad sign. She half wondered if her husband was wisely refraining from singing her ex-boyfriend's praise when she was mad at him. That was the most likely explanation. "You weren't keen on seeing him? Silly question. Ignore that. Of course you're not keen on seeing him."

She loved the way he rambled and made a fool out of himself.

"No. Penny let on that I was leaving, and Sheldon wanted to know where and we got in a fight. He tried to tell me I couldn't leave and I told him he had no right to dictate what I did with my life. I just . . . you know what, it doesn't matter. I love you and I'm happy to be taking this step with you, even if the timing could be better."

She was starting to relax as she talked to Dave while they drove. He was good for her. It was not passion and love at first sight, but after a few dates they slowly became closer. He was good at listening to her—except for the first few times early on when he eagerly talked about Sheldon, but now the times he talked about his physicist idol were few and far between. He was good for her. He loved her and she loved him. They were about to start a family together and move to London. When she focused on him she could relax and let her uncertainties fall away. Everything would be alright. She had to believe that.

When they got to their house, always immaculately clean but even more now it was on the market, she decided to drink some warm milk to help her fall asleep. Dave joined her and they sat on their couch quietly talking.

"Amy, I've heard back from my mates and there's a job opening at Imperial College London."

Amy smiled at him. "That's wonderful." It was a scary step but it was in the right direction. "This is really happening." She couldn't believe he was already starting on the job applications. It seemed too soon. Yet they were rapidly running out of time.

"Yes. It really is."

Amy set her mug of warm milk down on the coffee table. She turned towards Dave and tried to make out his face in the relative dark of the room. Giving up, she leaned into him instead and felt a wave of exhaustion creep over her as his arm settled around her and his fingers lightly traced patters on her cardigan covered arm.

"Amy. Would it be strange if I told you I was nervous."

She smiled and knew there was no way Dave could see it. "I'm nervous too. We can be nervous together."

She did not press for more details about why Dave was nervous. It was the city he grew up in and by all accounts it was an amazing city with a rich history and culture. He should be happy to go back. She also knew that he felt the need to leave the country when his ex-wife ran away with a French chef, so that could also be the root of his nervousness. Her nervousness was based on moving to a new country with two newborn babies and an elderly woman she had never met in person, only talked to over Skype, to take care of, and where she currently had no job lined up. She spent time abroad before but this was different. Previously it was just her who went where there were educational and professional opportunities. She left home knowing it was temporary. This time she was moving for love, and it was for much longer. It was both a scarier and more reassuring feeling.

She got her family visa back in the mail. She had the right to live and work in the UK for 33 months upon entry before she would have to renew it. The move really was happening and it was going to be permanent.

When she left her home before, it was temporary. She always knew she was taking an opportunity and would be back home soon enough. They could be in London for years, and once they started their family there, she suspected they would not move until the children were grown up. That would take roughly twenty years, and by that time they would likely be settled and would never move back to California. That thought was scary. This time would be permanent. She wanted to go but she would miss her friends, especially her bestie. She had to face the reality that they might never live in the same country, let alone the same city, again. Seeing them in person would be restricted to a few visits here and there, few and far between given the expense and length of transatlantic travel. She would try to keep in touch with them over Skype but it would be difficult.

A part of her worried she would loose her friends once she no longer saw them every day but she had to remind herself to calm down. She did not really believe Penny and Bernadette would forget about her. She certainly would do all in her power to remain friends with the two girls who pulled her out of her shell and gave her the childhood experiences she was isolated from growing up. They gave her warmth and affection and they included her, reluctantly at first, until she was deeply insinuated into their friend group.

She had to calm down and remember everything would work out. Her friends would not stop being her friends because she moved to another country and could no longer see them in person. She had nothing to worry about on that front but it was hard not to let her fears overtake her as well. She was the one who suggested moving and she was serious in her offer. It was a step closer to Dave and the family they were starting. She had what she wanted and she should be happy.

She was happy. She truly was. It was hard, though, to not be nervous. It was a big change but not an unwelcome one. She suspected she would feel more at ease once she had a job lined up and once the twins were born and she saw the place they would be living in for an undetermined but likely permanent basis. Certainty would give her confidence and security in her decision. Until they she would wait and let it happen. The cards would all fall into place. They simply needed enough time.

That was the problem right there. The sand was falling through the hourglass faster than she could control and she felt like she was being crushed to death by its weight.


	44. Chapter 44

"I'd be honored to," Penny answered right away as Amy knew she would. "I mean, we'd be honored to. Right, Leonard?"

"Right," Leonard said.

"Good. If anything happens to Dave and I, our children will be in good hands."

"Wait, what?"

Amy looked at Leonard who shrugged. "You to realize that by becoming my children's godparents if anything happens to Dave and I you get to take raise them."

"That's what being a godmother means?" Penny asked.

"Yes," Amy said, knowing Penny could be slow on the uptake. She made up for her lack of knowledge with her beauty and vivacity.

"Oh. But wouldn't you want your parents to?"

"You mean my mother?" Amy asked.

Penny winced. "Right. Stupid question. We'd still be honored to."

"Good," Amy said, "I'll add that to my will."

After hobbling up to 4B, Amy was not going to leave anytime soon although her purpose in coming over was fulfilled.

"Is there anything else?" Penny asked.

Amy remained sitting at the counter top. "I walked all the way up here bestie. Show some compassion."

"Right. Sorry. Water?"

Amy frowned. Not her preferred beverage while at Penny's apartment but it was something to keep her occupied, however briefly.

"Only three months left," she said. She was already counting down the days until the joys of pregnancy would be over. Now the swelling and bloating and general difficulty of movement was coming about, she found herself rather missing the morning sickness.

"And you're doing great," Penny said.

Leonard excused himself to let the girls talk and went across the hall, no doubt to play video games, a fact that made Penny roll her eyes as he left.

"Any progress with the move?" Penny asked.

Amy sighed. "Dave has a job and I have a few offers as well. I'm not sure which one to accept."

"Which one is the best?" Penny asked.

Although she knew Penny would not really understand her dilemma, Amy said, "It's difficult. I have an offer from Cambridge, but it's an hour outside of London. I'd only be able to spend the weekends with my family."

"Alright. What else?"

"University College London. Close by, a very good school, but not quite as prestigious."

"I think you've already decided," Penny said knowingly.

Amy sighed. Penny was right. She knew she would have to make some compromises, and there it was. Both positions were good and would allow her to research, yet the location of one was better than the other.

"My colleagues think I'm crazy to leave Caltech and turn down the offer from Cambridge. Maybe I am. It's complicated." As much as she loved Penny, there were times she felt Bernadette could better understand where she was coming from, and this was one of them.

"You know, you never did explain why you just don't move his mother out here," Penny said when Amy remained silent.

"What?" Amy looked up at her, having missed her question. It was unlike her yet she was having a hard time focusing of late. Perhaps it was the stress of everything about to change that had her on edge.

"Why doesn't your mother-in-law move out here if she needs to be taken care of by family. Then the two of you don't have to move and you'll have the support of your friends and family."

Amy only wished that were true. "Dave and I discussed that. We don't think it would be practical."

"Why not?" Penny asked.

There were a multitude of reasons and Amy did not want to list them all. "She'll be more comfortable in a familiar place. We want to make the end of her life easier. Then there's the finances."

"It can't be that expensive to fly one woman out here. It's got to be cheaper than moving all the way to London."

"It's not that simple. She's on some drugs to help her retain some of her cognitive abilities. They won't work in the later stages, but they can help her for now and they're expensive here. Unaffordable, really, especially with the babies coming soon. And if anything else happens to her, well, let's just say we thought it best to leave her where she was. It's easier for us to move."

"I don't want you to go," Penny said.

That sentiment they both shared. She didn't really want to go, but it was her idea, her suggestion, and it was the only logical course of action to take. It did not mean she had to like it, but she knew she was making the right decision.

"I don't want to move either," Amy finally admitted aloud. All the upcoming changes were becoming too much.

"Then don't," Penny advised.

Amy only wished she could follow her best friend's advice. She knew in her heart she could not. She was doing the right thing and as Dave helped out with her family, it was her turn to help out with his. She could better understand now why Bernadette assisted Howard in taking care of her mother-in-law even though many of the tasks that entailed throughout the years were deeply unpleasant. Marry the man marry the family. It's not like her family was all sunshine and roses anyhow.

"Please don't make this harder on me," Amy begged. She could feel the tears coming. They were hard to prevent with the hormone swings. She would prefer to be angry and yelling but instead she felt the moroseness coming on.

"I just want to be a good mother and I have no idea what I'm doing, and Penny, do you think I let things get out of control? Was I wrong to do this so soon? And now I sound like my mother."

It was her last sentence that did the trick and brought on the tears.

"Amy, don't cry," Penny tried to comfort her, unsuccessfully. It was the thought that counted.

"And then I'll be gone and you'll forget about me and I'll have no more friends," Amy wailed. She brushed away the tissues Penny pushed at her.

"No, I won't forget about you, Amy. I promise. You're kinda my best friend."

Amy sniffled and dried her eyes. Moisture still clung to her eyelids and blurred her vision but the new tears stopped.

"You'll call me?" Amy asked, worried to be weak in front of Penny yet not knowing how to stop.

"Every day if that's what you need," Penny promised.

"Don't be clingy, bestie. It's not attractive," Amy snarked. She already felt better, her melancholy of moments ago all but forgotten. "But in all seriousness, we will call each other, right. I don't think I can go through with this if you forget about me."

"That won't ever happen," Penny reassured her, then as an after thought, she added, "I don't think I could forget you if I tried."

Penny looked meaningfully towards the picture of the two of them Amy commissioned. She would miss seeing it frequently as it was a testament to her friendship with Penny. However, she had it pained as a gift for her best friend and so it would stay with Penny. If the artist had not killed himself, she would seriously consider commissioning a second one for herself.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Penny asked after awhile.

"Yes," Amy answered. She remembered that day clearly. Though she could not remember why, her first impression of her best friend was not the best. Warned of Penny's lack of intelligence, she took delight confusing her. Later, as she became more sensitive to emotions, she would realize that discussing Penny right in front of her was offensive, to say the least, especially as the conversation revolved around her impressively large number of sexual partners.

"I really didn't like you then," Penny admitted.

"I didn't like you either," Amy said, "but look at us now. We're best friends."

"Who would have thought?" Penny said nostalgically. "Really, who would _ever_ have thought you'd be my best friend."

"You don't have to sound so surprised."

"I'm sorry. You're just making me all nostalgic. Did I use that right?"

Amy was impressed as Penny did, in fact, use the word correctly and told her as much, causing Penny to gloat over her victory and thus ruining the effect of her slipping it into their conversation.

By the time she forced herself to leave, Amy felt both better and worse. Still uncertain about the future, at least she had the reassurance Penny would keep in touch. She would ensure it, including mailing Penny with items covered in hers scent if need be. It worked to get Penny to be her friend and it would work to maintain their friendship.

"You alright?" Dave asked when she got back home that evening.

"Exhausted but yes. Just spending time with Penny. She and Leonard agreed to be the godparents."

"That's great," Dave enthused.

Amy looked at him. "You're certain you're alright with that. There isn't someone you want to be one of the godparents."

"Amy, it's superstitious anyways. I'm really fine with Penny and Leonard."

"If you're sure," Amy said, glad her best friends would be involved in her children's lives, even if only distantly.


	45. Chapter 45

Amy accepted the job offer at UCL just days after her visa arrived back in the mail.

Looking at her unsmiling face in the photo, the move became all the more real. She was ready to burst and just wanted the babies out already at three days overdue.

"I'm fucking done with this shit!" Amy swore at Dave when she tried and failed to stand on her own, collapsing back down on the couch in disgrace.

Her gentle husband looked at her as if she were a caged animal, and that look only incited the predator she did not know she possessed within.

"Not too much longer, love. These things take time. The babies will come when they are ready."

"I'm ready NOW," Amy yelled. Dave winced at the volume. "Just get them out of me," she whimpered, much quieter.

"It's almost time, Amy. But not quite yet."

"Well, I wish they would hurry up," Amy protested. Then, as she recalled all her research into the subject, she said, "You know, there is something you can do about it."

"What? I'll do anything."

"Good," Amy flopped down onto the couch. "Give me your prostaglandins," she announced. That was supposed to help induce labor. She needed the babies out.

"What?" He appeared confused and she sighed. It was so obvious.

"Sex."

"You of all people should know that is just a myth. In fact, there are studies showing that intercourse prolongs gestational . . ."

"I don't care if it's a myth. Just get them out of me already!" She didn't mean to yell. She really didn't. She hated the way he flinched away from her at the loud volume. "I'm sorry," she said. "Please consider it?" Softer, more pleading. She should hate the fact that she was trying to manipulate him but at the moment, she just couldn't care.

"Amy, I don't think now's a great time," Dave protested.

Her eyes welled with tears. First she was dreading all the changes that were to come. That wasn't right. Not all. The move she dreaded but the babies she looked forward to should they finally decide to make their entrance into the world.

"It's because I'm fat and ugly, isn't it?" Feeling as bloated as a whale was not good for her self esteem. Being as immobile as a beached wale to boot did not help.

"You're not fat and you're not ugly. I think you're beautiful."

"I'm crying. I must look hideous right now," Amy complained.

Dave looked nervously at her. "Right. Well, maybe we could . . ." he did not have time to finish his sentence because Amy pulled his neck down by his tie.

As Amy anticipated, Dave's assistance did the trick. He drove her to the hospital as she alternatively gripped the door handle and grimaced through the pain and then relaxed and tried to focus on her breathing as she'd been taught.

She giggled when her doctor looked down to inspect the dilation of her cervix and spotted the remaining evidence of her earlier activities with her husband. Though entirely professional, their doctor made a comment about it, causing her adorably English husband to blush and stammer for being caught being intimate with his wife. It was the one and only time she would laugh in the delivery room, and even then it was of short duration as another contraction hit soon after, turning her laughter into pain.

Dave went to meet their friends in the waiting room while she waited. He returned not too long after with the news that Penny, Leonard, and Raj were all waiting for her outside. Howard and Bernadette were at their house with Halley, not wanting to expose the infant to anything she could pick up at a hospital.

For her part, Amy did not care who was in the waiting room. The pain became more frequent and though Dave did his best to help her through it, he was beyond useless. Any expression of sympathy was met by a scolding until he eventually gave up.

"I'm sorry," Amy said eventually. She knew that the goal she chased relentlessly for the longest time was about to come true. Her life was finally where she wanted it to be. She would have the children she desired and longed for.

"I love you," Dave said.

For a brief moment, the two of them and their unborn children were all that were in the room. "I love you too," she said.

She wanted to die after giving birth to their girl. The boy demanded he make his appearance known not ten minutes later, and by the time she was done she wanted to collapse in exhaustion and never speak again.

Once the babies were cleaned up and Amy was rested enough to see people, Dave placed a child in each arm and as she looked down at the two of them, peaceful and healthy, she felt the bliss she hadn't know she'd been waiting for.

"What should we call them?" Amy said after awhile of awed staring.

"Cassiopeia," Dave suggested.

"Like the queen?" Amy asked.

"Yes. Because she's beautiful."

"Hmm," Amy pursed her lips, "Cassiopeia. Cassie for short. I like that." The name was just pretentious enough, and as she looked down at the elder of the two twins, the name suited her.

"I like Felix," she suggested the second name.

"Ah, like Felix Felicis. For luck," Dave said.

That was not even her intention. She just liked the sound of the name. "Just Felix," she repeated.

"Felix it is," Dave agreed.

They introduced their friends to the twins, and had Howard and Bernadette join them via Skype to say hi to the newest members of their family.

"My godchildren are beautiful, Amy," Penny said as she held Felix. Amy watched Penny nervously, but satisfied her friend appeared to know what she was doing, Amy relaxed.

"They are," Amy said. She could not have imagined how precious and little they could be.

"Have you told your mother yet?" Penny asked.

"Which part?"

"You know. The part where her grandchildren are here."

"Yes, well . . ." Amy tried to find some lie Penny would not spot.

"Oh my gosh, you didn't tell your mother you were pregnant," Penny squealed.

Amy exchanged a silent communication with her husband who said, "In Amy's defense, I'm fairly certain Cecile took care of that part for her."

Once they were released from the hospital and safely returned the children to their home, Amy knew she could not put off telling her parent's any longer. They were bound to worry about her at some point if she kept refusing to contact them, and with the babies simultaneously asleep, she had a short window in which to call. Later, that same window would be used for sleep, but she had plenty of bedrest for the time being.

"Hello, mother," Amy said when Mrs Fowler answered the call.

"Amy. It's been to long. You look different."

No hello, how are you. Straight onto criticism. It was going to be one of those days.

"Nice to see you too. How are you?"

She chickened out. Dave raised his eyebrow at her from across the room and she shrugged. Perhaps had she a better relationship with her parents the call would be easier. They would have know in advance that she was pregnant. Not after the fact.

"Good. Now I've been thinking, there's a man at my church who—"

"—Is dad around?" Amy cut her mother off. She could feel her mother's gaze burning into her and glared at Dave as if to say it was all his fault.

"Yes, why?"

"Can you please put me on speaker."

"Alright," Mrs Fowler agreed and Amy was glad she did not have to argue that part.

"You're on speaker. What do you want?" Mrs Fowler said.

"Hi, Amy. I haven't heard from you in awhile. Is everything all right?"

Felix choose that exact moment to begin crying, and Cassie, awakened by her brother's wailing, joined him. Dave jumped up to attend to them. Amy wished he would finish the conversation and she could look after the infants, but it was not to be. They were her parents and she had to tell them.

"Is that a baby?" Mrs Fowler asked. "Amy, what's going on?"

She took a deep breath. "Babies, actually," Amy corrected, "Mine. I'm preg . . . was pregnant. They were born three days ago. Twins. Cassie and Felix."

She held her breath as silence ensued. Neither of her parents were thrilled, she imagined, with her keeping her pregnancy a secret from them the entire duration, but truthfully, she did not need her mother causing her stress in a delicate time.

In one move, she wrecked whatever peace existed between her and her mother that they found during her wedding.

"Anyways, I've gotta go. Bye."

She hung up without waiting for them to say anything. Immediately she felt a bit guilty for her manner in the conversation but the incessant wailing was starting to drive her crazy.

She went to help Dave with the babies, and though it took a long time, they eventually went back to sleep.

It did not last long when the doorbell rang.

Dave answered it though Amy already knew who it was. She checked her phone. Five missed calls and three texts all from her parents. Her husband welcomed his in-laws in and she joined them in the living room.

"Hi, dad. Mother." She greeted the former with a hug and the later with nothing at all. She sat down beside Dave as her parents looked at her.

"You didn't tell me you were pregnant," her mother accused.

She wanted to explain her reasons. It had not crossed her mind. With how awful her mother was to her as a child, she was not even sure she wanted her children to know their grandmother. Instead, all she said was, "I'm sorry."

"I knew you were, of course. Cecile told me. But it should have come from you, Amy."

Her mother was disappointed in her and though she cared not for her mother's approval, it stung nevertheless.

"I should have," Amy agreed. "And I'm sorry." She kept her voice quiet so as not to wake up the twins.

"Why didn't you?" Mr Fowler asked, and his disappoint hurt even more. Her relationship with him was not as rocky and his disapproval stung all the more.

She felt tears forming in her eyes. "I was scared to," she admitted aloud the reason she did not even know was true but once voiced she could not deny.

Dave pulled her into him, and though she should be embarrassed to need to be cuddled, she was long past caring, grateful for the silent support.

"I think what my wife is trying to say," Dave said in a show of solidarity, "is that she doesn't have the best track record with you and didn't want to disappoint you."

"Is this true?" Mr Fowler said.

Amy nodded, not wanting to speak.

"We're more disappointed you didn't tell us."

"I know. I'm sorry," Amy repeated. "It's just . . . mother, everything I do disappoints you. I don't know how to make you happy and frankly, I don't care anymore. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"Amy," Mrs Fowler gasped, a bit too loudly as it woke Cassie who promptly started crying, Felix joining into the chorus not long after. "Don't you dare speak to me like that."

"Thank you for waking them up," Amy snarked, getting up to attend to the crying babies and leaving Dave alone with her parents, a cruel maneuver on her part but one she desperately needed.

She she tried to get the babies to quiet with no success—they were not hungry and did not have dirty diapers—her mother joined her. Mrs Fowler took Cassie and started bouncing her up and down, the soothing rhythm entranced the girl long enough to stop her crying, and once she was quiet Felix decided all was right with the world and followed suit.

"That you," Amy said when her mother put Cassie back in her crib and Amy did the same with Felix. They snuck back into the living room where Dave and Mr Fowler were quietly conversing.

"I do know what to do with a baby, Amy," Mrs Fowler said.

"You're not mad at me?" Amy asked, as it appeared both her parents were calm again.

She would question Dave later about what he said to her parents after she left to get them to calm down, and if she could, learn his techniques for future reference.

"No, Amy. Disappointed, but not mad."

That was be best she was going to get from either of her parents.

"No matter," Mrs Fowler said, "We've known for awhile, and we won't hold it against you. In fact, we've been thinking that with two babies, the two of you will need a lot of help. I can move in for a couple of weeks, and once you become adjusted, we can work out a schedule—"

"—What schedule?" Amy interrupted, not liking where the conversation was going and thinking of a way to prevent her mother from moving it, no matter how nice help with the infants sounded.

"The schedule for when they'll be with us and when they'll be with you. Honestly, child, do you really think you can raise them by yourself?"

"Yes," Amy said icily, any remorse she felt for not telling her parents sooner gone. "I do. Let's clear one thing up: they are my children. Dave and I will raise them. Not you."

"Don't be absurd," Mrs Fowler said, "A career woman like yourself raising two babies. They'll be dreadfully neglected. That's bad for them, you know."

"Just because I have a job you think I won't be a good mother?" Amy said. When Mrs Fowler made to agree with the statement, Amy said, "You're wrong. You won't be allowed anywhere near them, not without either mine or Dave's supervision. They are my children and I will raise them as I see fit. Don't you try and tell me otherwise. You will not be moving in here either."

"Amy, you're being a bit harsh to your mother," Mr Fowler said when her mother became angry, as he had a right to after Amy's statement.

"No. I'm not done yet," Amy said. She allowed her mother to walk all over her and came back time after time when it was just her, but she wouldn't allow that to happen to her children. Not after seeing them, small and helpless and impressionable. "I'm grateful for everything the two of you have done for me, but I won't allow my children to be locked up in a closet the way I was, I will not have you telling Cassie her one job in life is to get married and have children and to forget all hopes of a career, and I will not have you discouraging them from having friends and being lonely the way I was for decades. You scared me, and I won't let you do that to them."

"You're being ridiculous," Mrs Fowler seethed.

"I don't think I am," Amy said.

"Shall I make some tea," Dave tried to diffuse the situation. When three pairs of eyes glared at him, he stopped talking.

"We're still their grandparents and will see them. You can't stop us, Amy."

"Actually, I can. I won't need to, but I can."

"What do you mean won't need to?" Mr Fowler asked.

At the exact same moment, Mrs Fowler held up eight glossy photos in two different sizes and asked, "Amy? What are these?"

Amy looked helplessly at Dave. They were already arguing, albeit quietly so as not to wake the babies, but now was as good a time as any. It would not make the situation worse.

"We're moving to London. I've already finished up my research at Caltech. I resigned right before I went on maternity leave. We're moving to London in a month. Those are their passport photos," Amy said.

That was when she and Dave agreed to leave, more than enough time for them to get the passports and legal documents in order for the move and the infants old enough to make the long flight, and then a bit of extra time in hopes that their immune system would be good enough to withstand the recycled air on the plane.

"You're moving to London and you didn't tell us," Mr Fowler said, the disappointment back and this time compounded with the additional news.

"Yes," Dave said.

"How long have you known?" Mrs Fowler asked.

"Six months," Dave answered.

"I have nothing to say to you, Amy," Mrs Fowler said. She and Mr Fowler made their exit without so much of a goodbye, and after the left, Amy felt the strain of the ordeal fall over her. Already exhausted from giving birth, she exhausted the remaining supply of her fire in that one conversation.

"I'm a horrible person," she said.

"No you aren't. They'll forgive you and come around eventually."

"You don't know them like I do. They won't," Amy said bitterly.

"Then it will be their loss," Dave consoled her. "Please don't stress yourself out about it right now. I'll go talk to them and see if I can help, but I do understand why they're hurting. Please give them the benefit of the doubt."

If only Dave knew her parents, and especially her mother, better, he would not be saying that yet she appreciated his attempt at comforting her all the same.

"Thank you," she whispered.


	46. Chapter 46

"We're really doing this," Amy said, looking over the bare walls of their house. No. Not their house anymore. They sold it, and were all moved out. Most of their possessions they'd sold, except for the few they wanted to take with them. What did not fit in the suitcases was already on a ship, for them to pick up once they got to England.

"We're really doing this."

"It seems so surreal," she observed.

She hadn't called the house home for long, but seeing it barren, empty what walls, devoid of furniture, she was not sure how to describe the feeling, only that it made the more more concrete.

"It's time, Amy," Dave said gently, taking her hand.

"Yes. Penny's waiting for us."

They'd sold both of their cars as well, and since then relied on their friends for rides.

They slipped into the car where Penny was waiting for them.

"I still can't believe you're leaving today," Penny commented.

"Yes. Don't talk like that yet. You'll make me cry," Amy said.

She knew, when it came time to say her final goodbye's, she really was going to cry, not because she thought she was going to loose her friends, because she swore to herself to work hard to prevent that from happening, but because it signaled the end of an era, the close in one chapter of her life.

"You're going the wrong way," Dave commented as Penny turned left instead of right.

"No I'm not."

Amy frowned. Penny's sense of direction was usually fine. "Yes you are bestie."

"Who said you were going back to the hotel?" Penny briefly glanced towards Amy in the back of the car and winked. "You're being kidnapped."

"What's going on?" Amy asked suspiciously.

"Just wait. You'll see."

They wound up at Howard and Bernadette's house.

"Penny, I really don't understand why we're. . ."

She trailed off as Penny insisted she enter first, and Dave stopped right beside her. Were she not carrying a sleeping infant she would have squealed and hugged Penny, because hanging over the living room, in giant letters, was a sign reading 'We will miss you'.

"Oh my," Amy said, because it was all she could think to say. All her friends were standing there. "Thank you."

Penny laughed. "Did you honestly think we were going to let you leave without throwing you a party."

"That's exactly what I thought."

She glanced at Dave, who was smirking.

"You knew about this and didn't tell me," she accused, though she wasn't really upset. How could she be?

"I did," he agreed. "Aren't you surprised."

"Yes."

Amy and Dave settled Cassie and Felix into Halley's room, while the toddler in question, regardless of Bernadette's attempts to contain her, insisted on scattering her toys throughout the living room while she played.

This was it. Her one last night with her friends. She would miss them all. Howard. Raj. Leonard. Stuart. Most of all, she would miss Penny and Bernadette.

The night was about her, but in many ways, as they talked and joked as they always did, it felt just like every other night, a stark reminder that the more things changed the more they stayed the same. Stuart still made self-deprecatory comments about his worth, Leonard whined, Raj complained about being single, Howard made jokes that caused Bernadette to roll her eyes as if wondering what she saw in him in the first place. It was the same.

It could have been any time they gathered, but underneath all the cheer and spirit was the reminder that she was moving and for her, such future nights would be limited to occasional trips back to LA.

Eventually, Penny insisted that the infants join them, claiming it was her last chance to see her godchildren for a long while. Amy did not miss the way Leonard looked at Penny while she held her godchildren, and nor did she miss the calculating look on his face.

She leaned in towards Dave and whispered in his ear, "Look at Leonard."

Dave did. "What?" he said to her in return, though he made no noise to be quiet. He appeared confused.

Now that the attention was on them, she shook her head. "Way to be subtle."

Once the focus was no longer on them again, Dave said more quietly, "What about Leonard?"

She shook her head in amusement. "I was just thinking that he looked a bit envious."

"You think?"

"I know." Yet knowing Penny, Leonard's hopes, if that was indeed what his long glances meant, would not be fulfilled in the immediate future. With a body like Penny's, her bestie was in no rush to ruin her figure, an issue she'd been loud and vocal about ever since Amy met her.

Raj clinked his fork against a glass, causing everyone to look at him. "Amy, we have a going away present for you."

"You didn't have to," she said, a bit surprised and a bit worried whatever it was would not fit into her suitcase.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course we had to. Leonard."

Leonard handed her the present. "I'll really miss you."

"Thank you," she said, looking at the present.

Carefully so as not to damage the paper, she unwrapped a small box, and when she opened it, it was and empty box.

A bit of disappoint filled her.

"I don't get it."

"We couldn't give it to you here, so it'll be delivered to you in London."

"What is it?" Amy demanded. She hated leaving mysteries unsolved.

"It's a—" Penny started excitedly.

"—Wait," Bernadette cut her off. "We both agreed I would be the one to tell her."

"But she's my best friend," Penny said.

"She's my best friend too," Bernadette argued.

Amy laughed. Ten years ago, she would have believed no one would ever argue over her friendship. Now, she was still in disbelief that she was leaving.

"Why don't the two of you say it together," Stuart said.

"Ladies, let's let Amy settle this. Amy, who do you like better," Raj said.

Amy did not appreciate his attempt at being diplomatic. "I'm not answering that," she said.

"It's me," Bernadette said quickly, and Howard seconded her.

"No. It's me," Penny argued. Leonard remained silent. She glared at him, and Leonard, reluctant to enter into the drama, sighed and fidgeted a bit.

"It's Penny," Leonard reluctantly seconded.

Amy glared at Raj. "Look what you got me into."

At that point, Dave said, "Stuart, that's not a bad idea. Penny and Bernadette can say it together."

"Dave, that's a good idea," Penny enthusiastically agreed.

"I just said that, but no one listened," Stuart complained.

"Yeah, that's great Stuart," Howard said.

"Right. On the count of three. One two three," Penny said.

Together, Bernadette and Penny chorused, "We got you a cadaver."

Amy blinked. That couldn't be correct. Full cadavers were expensive and hard to come by, but looking at her friends, she felt the tears come.

"That's wonderful. I've always wanted a cadaver. Thank you. That's really amazing. Thank you."

She couldn't say more. If she did, she was really going to start crying.

"You did kind of grow on us," Raj said slowly.

"Much like Leonard did on Penny," Howard said.

"That's right I did," Leonard smirked. Penny rolled her eyes at his self satisfied expression.

"Thank you. It's . . . thank you."

"Amy," Dave said softly. "It's time to go."

She looked at her watch and saw he was right. It was about time for them to leave for the airport.

"Thank you again," Amy said.

"You're welcome," Leonard said, "I'll really miss you. Both of you."

Similar goodbyes followed with the rest of the guys, but when it came time to say goodbye to Penny and Bernadette.

"Thank you for everything, not just the present," Amy said, "Promise me you'll stay in touch. Both of you."

"Of course. I'll miss you," Bernadette said.

"I'll miss you too," Penny said.

"I'll miss you both so much."

They hugged, and while the guys insisted on commenting, Amy paid them no mind. Whatever it was, nothing could distract her from her tearful goodbye. And she was crying, tears in her eyes.

"You be sure to Skype me," Bernadette said.

"I will," Amy promised and hugged her again.

It seemed like the hugs would never end. Nor did Amy want them to.

"And I want frequent pictures of my godchildren," Penny said.

"I promise you'll have them," Amy swore, and hugged Penny.

My but it was hard to say goodbye. She knew it was going to be hard right before she left, and she knew she was going to cry, but she did not think she would have the seemingly endless buckets of tears dropping down her face, or that each time one of the girls attempted to break the group hug to let her go they inevitably ended up embroiled it in all over again.

Amy did not have a problem with that in the slightest.

"We really have to leave now," Dave said, and it was obvious he was checking the time, watching it drain away.

Amy allowed herself one last hug with them both before pulling away. "I'll miss you so much, Bernadette," Amy said. "You're one of my best friends."

"Thank you Amy. You're one of my best friends."

And that was that. They loaded into Penny's car which still had the car seats, and Penny drove them to the airport.

Amy watched the familiar scenery go by, and while she and Penny talked in the front seat, Dave kept quiet, allowing her the last few moments she'd have with her best friend in person. She had no idea when she would next see Penny.

Penny parked pulled to a stop in the departures area and while Dave retrieved their luggage from the backseat, Amy hugged her. It was awkward, leaning over as she was in the front seat.

"I'll miss you so much, bestie."

"I'll miss you too. And when you meet the queen, I want a picture."

Amy rolled her eyes. "I doubt I'll meet the queen."

"Fine. I'll settle for a picture of the prince. The young, attractive one. Not the old one."

Amy laughed. "Thank you." _For everything. For being my best friend. For being nice to me even when you disliked me._ There was so much she could say to Penny, and yet she didn't.

It was too sorrowful, to maudlin, to be said aloud.

"Thank you," Penny returned, and Amy pulled back so they could both look at each other.

Before Amy could start crying again, and she felt the tears prickling at her eyes despite her attempts to control them, she got out of the car and settled the infants into the stroller Dave had assembled on the sidewalk.

Checking their bags, passing through security, and waiting briefly at the gate all seemed to go by in a haze and then they were in the air on their red eye to London. For the long flight, they'd gotten two seats for the infants, though they weren't strictly speaking required to.

After dinner, both the microwave meals for her and Dave and breastfeeding the infants—which attracted her some dirty looks from the other passengers, but she ignored it. Just traveling with babies she knew she would incite the ire of some people on the plane and she did not care—it was time to sleep. Were she not so exhausted, it would be hard to sleep sitting up with the half dimmed lights and sitting upright, but the goodbye's from earlier tired her out more than she could have expected, and she fell right asleep.

Standing up never felt so good. She knew the flight was long, but now she was older the flight seemed longer still. She was glad to be back on solid ground again, enjoying the opportunity to walk.

"I can't believe we're finally here," she told Dave.

Her husband smiled at her. "Neither can I."

It was a big change, a big move, and here they were with two infants in tow. It took a long time from landing in LHR until they finally arrived at Dave's mother's house, and once they were there, Amy felt the collective fatigue from a night of lost sleep and jet lag settle down on her.

The twins were hungry and crying and she was starving.

Instead of eating and putting the children to sleep as they would have done already in California, they were outside of the house they would call home for an undetermined amount of time.

"You alright?" Dave asked. He was just as exhausted as her and he still thought about her welfare.

"I'll be fine," she assured him, not sure what they would encounter once they were in the house.

Dave knocked on the door and a middle-aged woman answered.

"You must be Dave and Amy. Come in. Beth is upstairs sleeping."

"And you are Lucinda Rollins?" Amy asked, knowing very well the woman was her mother-in-law's live in nurse they hired until they could get to London.

"I am. And who are these two dears?" the kindly woman asked.

"Felix and Cassie. They're twins. Four weeks old to be exact."

The woman cooed over the infants and miraculously managed to get catch their attention long enough to stop the crying.

Amy knew better than to interrupt the woman. Her babies were very unhappy after such a long flight. She didn't blame them. She felt a bit miserable too, made more so by the fact that the taxi ride took more than an hour. She fed them before they could start crying again.

"I should hire you on full time. I despaired of calming them down after the flight."

"Don't worry, my dear. I'm sure you're a wonderful mother."

Amy smiled her thanks and said goodbye to the woman who spent months taking care of her mother-in-law. She and Dave found some food in the fridge, mainly leftovers, but they were starving and it was good enough.

Too tired to unpack completely, Amy instead set up a few necessary items for the twins for when they woke up and then Dave gave her a brief tour of the house.

Both exhausted, sleeping on a plane did not come as easily to her as it used to, she and her husband easily fell asleep.

The peace and quiet did not last long. Before the hour was out, Amy woke to a loud clattering. She shot up in her bed.

"Dave!" she exclaimed and grabbed at his hand.

Dave opened his eyes blearily. "What is it?" he mumbled.

"I think your mother's awake."

Dave headed downstairs to search for his mother and Amy checked in on the twins. They were still asleep but she knew they would be up and hungry in another hour or so.

She made her way down the stairs and found her husband and an elderly woman who looked similar to him. That must be Beth Gibbs.

"Hello," she said quietly to alert the two to her presence. They were having a quiet conversation and she did not want to startle them by coming upon them suddenly.

"Hi, Amy. Come join us," Dave invited her over. She knew who the woman was because they had talked on Skype before when Dave introduced her recently after their engagement. This was her first time meeting her in person and she was unsure what to expect.

"Who are you, dear?" the older woman asked.

"I'm Amy, your daughter-in-law. It's nice to meet you in person, Mrs Gibbs."

Beth waved her comment away. "We're not formal here. Call me Beth, dear."

"Okay, Beth," Amy said. She took a deep breath to steady herself. This was her husband's childhood home, and she could tell from his relaxed posture he felt comfortable. She, on the other hand, was an intruder, moving into another woman's home even if it was her mother-in-law. Being an outsider was a feeling she was deeply accustomed to as she spent the majority of her life looking in from the outside. It was a bit difficult for her to accept the fact that now she really was an outsider. As she looked around the pictures on the walls and saw Dave, his mother, and other people she did not recognize, she felt very distant from them all. She did not know anyone from his life. She was in a house that belonged to someone else. She felt like she was tiptoeing on eggshells so as not to break the delicate balance.

She stayed and talked to Beth for a while. The woman seemed fairly lucid, though Lucinda already warned her that Beth's mental acuity came and went in bursts and that made the initial conversation a bit easier. As a neurobiologist, she was excited to have ample opportunity to study and talk to the woman over the next few years, though she suspected she should feel guilty for viewing her mother-in-law as a test subject. It was the easiest way to make her feel more at ease in the strange house, at least until she came to consider it as her own.

She suspected everything would be better once she found a nanny and was able to start at her new job in a week.

Amy checked the clock. It was only 4pm, still too early to call her friends back home. She really wanted to talk to them and tell them she got in safely. She compromised with a short email and asking to set up a time when they could all talk.


	47. Chapter 47

She thought she'd be happier once she started at her new job at UCL. The research was stimulating, she was still exhausted from being up all night with the twins though they were starting to sleep just a bit longer, a fact both her and Dave were immensely grateful for. As a neurobiologist talking to Dave's mom was a fascinating study in the progression of neurodegenerative diseases.

She adored her children more than she expected. Cassie and Felix both had a fascination with her hair, for whenever she was close they grabbed at it, clean hands or no. Her nose and ears only held slightly less fascination for them. While having memorized the textbook developmental milestones, she still felt mesmerized the first time they smiled when she came home from work. They turned in her direction when she spoke. They recognized her, a recognition that was previously absent. Their eyes were alight with a spark of newfound intelligence and the rate of change was astounding to witness.

She became concerned when, at two months, Felix began cooing incessantly, but Cassie remained silent. She resisted the urge to coo back at Felix—baby talk would only hinder his language acquisition—and she was at a complete loss as to how to encourage Cassie. No matter how many times her daughter listened to Felix experiment with his vocal chords, she remained silent. In fact, she could even swear Felix was even attempting to copy the rhythm and tonality of the songs she and Dave sang to him. Cassie remained worryingly silent.

"Don't worry overly much, dear. She will speak when she is ready," Beth told her.

"But Felix—"

"—is developing at his own pace," Beth cut her off.

She was a genius. She should know those things, and yet she didn't. No amount of research had fully prepared her and she hated her own ignorance.

The neighborhood was becoming familiar—she could now walk to the Sainsbury's and the Tube station without blindly following Citymapper—and she remembered which direction to look before crossing the street. She adjusted to the food and the newness of it all, a feat which would have been easier were she not exhausted all the time, and if she had more energy she would admit that the city itself gave her the feeling of being alive with its bustle. Life became easier once she found the eggs not refrigerated and became quicker at packing her own bags. So too did she fall into the rhythm of the commuter, but for each problem she fixed—queuing, standing on the right—a million more minor nuances seemed to crop up and with English stoicism, she received the passive aggressive vibes without anyone ever telling her why. Even then she still figured out the small cultural differences and adapted, albeit slowly.

And yet no matter how much she thought she adjusted and how supportive Dave was, knowing the move was not easy on her despite it being her idea, she was not happy. If anything, she would characterize her feelings as depression from the hole in her life that once her friends used to fill. It was strange how she spent the entirety of her life content if not happy to have no friends, and yet once she had them they became an inseparable part of her life. Now she knew what it was like to have people she cared about and who cared about her, it was rather hard to not have them constantly around anymore. She and Penny faithfully Skyped a couple of times a week, and seeing her bestie's face always improved her spirits, but it was simply not the same.

She had Dave and her children; she had what she wanted out of life; and yet there was still a hole that needed to be filled and she did not know how to go about it. The people were not unfriendly, per say, but nor were they friendly. She thought she was well versed in holding mundane conversations about the weather. Her coworkers seemed to have an obsession with it. Her coworkers were perfectly amiable and polite, yet they never appeared eager to go out and do things socially, unless it was to encourage her out of her office for lunch.

To make matters worse, Dave invited his friends over frequently, and while she liked them and was glad her husband was reunited with his closest friends again, she could not help but feel the little green monster taking over. That's what she wanted. She barely managed to make friends in Pasadena and now she would have to start all over again. Dave and his friends included her, but she was aware of the many jokes, the humor, she missed out on, as they laughed and she was clueless as to why. Dave tried to explain some things to her, yet it did not take. It simply wasn't amusing.

She hated to even think it but the truth was she wanted to go home to Pasadena and back to her old job at Caltech, or even at UCLA, where things were familiar and she had her best friends.

"Is everything alright?" Dave asked her one night as they sat down to dinner.

The twins were sleeping in the next room and Beth was napping. They were by themselves and she could not help but think that it was Thursday. She should be with Penny and Bernadette on Thursday having girls night and yet she wasn't. If she managed to stay awake another hour, she could Skype them before they went to work.

"Not really," she said in a moment of weakness, forgetting her promise to herself to keep her silence. Dave was already having a hard enough time watching the start of his mother's decline and it had him constantly preoccupied. She did not want to burden him with her problems as well.

"What happened? Something at work?"

"No. My research is great. In fact, today I made a really interesting discovery about—"

"—Amy," Dave interrupted her gently, "what's going on?"

"I guess I'm just missing my friends. I've been a bit lonely lately. It's nothing. Don't worry about it." She tried to brush her concerns aside and was considering the best way to change the topic.

"It's not nothing. Is there anything I can do?"

She smiled up at him and for the first time in a week she felt better. It was ridiculous of her to feel lonely when she had the sweetest husband who was currently concerned about her welfare.

"No. This is just perfect, actually." She smiled at him and reached over to hold his hand. He squeezed her fingers lightly and she felt all her troubles drain away. She could make new friends. In time she was sure she would. She just needed to be patient and everything would fall into place eventually.

Despite Dave's reassurances, her feelings of emptiness came back not that much later. She was being silly. She could adjust to her new circumstances. She should have adjusted by now, and for the numerous every day aspects, Dave helped her navigate the new system, from setting up their account at Barclays to navigating the NHS for the Felix and Cassie's two month checkup. Her jet lag long forgotten, going to the supermarket was no longer an exercise in futility when it took her twice as long to find something as it would have at the much larger stores in Pasadena, twenty four hour time and writing dates differently became quicker and more natural, the Tube and buses were easy to navigate—after she figured out how to get on the bus lines in the correct direction. All the potential causes for her distress she could cross off the list. London was not so different from any other large city. It reminded her of New York, but with more charm and English accents. Whatever troubles the move caused, it was impossible for her to pinpoint.

As far as her other routines went, she settled in. Most days Beth talked to her, and she appreciated learning the embarrassing stories from Dave's childhood that only a mother could tell. He stoically endured her teasing, but she only did it out of love and affection. She wanted to know more about him and her mother-in-law was happy to provide her with the information. And pictures.

The stress the twins caused decreased as they settled into their new home. She could tell they were distressed at the new location at first, but constant reassurances from their parents and they quieted. With time, Amy became more proficient at quieting them down for the night. She also learned to noticed the subtle signs that they were growing hungry as their tiny hands grasped at the air and they stirred more frequently. Oftentimes she was able to prevent the crying before it started, to which the ears of all three adults were grateful. It also gave her the first solid bit of evidence that she really would be better than her mother. Dave knew she would be, and deep down she believed it as well, but the physical evidence offered her more comfort than any theoretical evidence.

She learned her way around the university as well, and she settled into her favorite spots nearby to grab a quick lunch, or dinner on the occasions she needed to stay late for the sake of an experiment. Her colleagues were friendly even if she did not consider them her friends. She learned the atmosphere in the labs, the relationships between the researchers, and learned to navigate them without creating conflict. It was what she did when she first joined the staff at UCLA, and then again at Caltech. Basic observation of human behavior revealed the preexisting social hierarchy that went beyond official titles. She wormed her way into it.

The slowest uptake of them all was understanding the more varied accents that could be found in London, whether they stronger variations on English accents or foreign.

And still the negative vortex persisted. She wanted to be happy. Why did the world seem to plot against her?

The following week she arrived home from work to find Dave waiting, still in his suit and tie from the day. It was unusual, as he changed into more comfortable clothes after he got home from work. It became a necessity after the sudden rush to the dry cleaners.

"Did you just get home?" she questioned upon seeing his attire.

"I've been back for awhile. Mum is going to babysit and we're going on a date tonight."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she questioned. While there was no doubt in her mind she wanted to go on a date—they hadn't been on a single date since before the twins were born—the twins were either with one of them or at the nursery.

"Mum's well enough if that's what you're asking."

"It wasn't."

"I'm worried about you. You seem a bit depressed, and since we got here you haven't seen any of the city."

"I—" Amy tried to protest but Dave interrupted her.

"Walking across the street to the British Library or Regent's Park doesn't count. I'm taking you out tonight, no buts. Would you like to freshen up first?"

She couldn't help but smile. He knew her so well. "Are you saying I look bad?" she questioned, though it was more of a tease. She knew he meant nothing by his question.

He gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I'm saying I want to take my wife out on a date and I know she gets all fussy about her appearance on dates even though I think she's beautiful no matter what she's wearing."

"Damnit," Amy said. It was impossible to even pretend to be mad at him. He had a way with words that drew her in and charmed her when he wanted to. What he said was exactly what she needed to hear. She could feel her body relaxing.

And he was right. In her work clothes she was presentable enough for a date but she wanted to change into something more casual. "Five minutes?" she said, making her way to their bedroom.

"So where are we going?" she asked. Since he was still in a suit, she thought it would be somewhere nice, and she dressed accordingly.

"It's a surprise."

The surprise was less of a surprise when they emerged above ground. "A bit cliche don't you think?" Amy asked, though she was pleasantly surprised. Maybe it would not have been her choice of place, but it was iconic.

"If we don't do the touristy things now, we will never get around to it. So yes."

They got into the elevator and went up all those floors. When they got off they were a little over halfway to the top of the building, but even from where they were the view of the city was still phenomenal. It was overcast outside and the sky was growing dark, but she could still see a ways off through the floor to ceiling windows.

"Wow," she breathed, because seeing one of the world's most famous skylines from high up was different from the glimpses she occasionally caught outside. "This is something else," she breathed out. When she studied abroad in Norway she hadn't taken the time to tour around.

Dave ensured she did not make the same mistake with London.

They were seated and menus were brought out. Curiously, she looked first at the prices, surprised to see they were lower than she would have expected for dining in the Shard.

Without needing to say anything, Dave noticed her curiosity. "That's why we're here. Plus no reservation needed."

"It's wonderful, Dave, thank you." Maybe it was cliche, going on a date in the Shard. Maybe it was touristy and overdone, but it meant more to her than words could express. He was right. Going on a date, just the two of them, was nice.

It was nice to get away from home and have time to breath, just by themselves.

"You like it then? Good. I wasn't sure."

"Shhh," she cut him off, placing a finger of his lips to silence him. "I love it."

Her dinner was, as Dave promised, excellent. They talked in a way they hadn't been able to in awhile, without the specter of Beth or the interrupting cries of one, and then both, of the twins taking over.

Once they finished dinner, she was reluctant to leave.

"It's not raining outside," Dave commented once they reached the ground floor.

"It isn't," Amy agreed.

"Would you like to have a walk?"

"You don't need to ask. I'd always love to." She slipped her hand into his and squeezed it lightly. He brushed a light kiss over her hair.

"Let's go then," he husked. They took a leisurely pace, walking in the direction of the Thames, and once they came to the river, he turned right.

Not knowing where they were going, Amy followed along. It didn't matter to her which way they walked. It was his company she enjoyed above all else.

The reason for their direction became clear to her not that much later. She was the blue and purple lights gleaming in the distance. No matter what else she thought, the city at night could be spectacular.

"London bridge," she breathed out, which caused Dave to laugh immediately and intensely.

"American," he said once he calmed down enough to speak. It was both a tease and an insult, but one meant in so mild a manner she did not take offense. "A lot of people think that's London bridge but it isn't. It's Tower Bridge."

Either way, it was still one of the most iconic London landmarks, and in the night with it lit up, it was spectacular. She pulled him to the side of the broad walkway, looking out over the Thames. Although it was dark, she could still see a bit of the Tower of London rising over the river. What once would have been the largest, most imposing structure in the city, a demonstration of strength and intimidation, it was now dwarfed by the colossal skyscrapers, a reminder that over time everything changed.

It had for her, and for the best. She had a husband she loved and children she adored, and maybe she felt unhappy from time to time, but at the moment, all she could feel was bliss. Her life wasn't complete; not yet; there was still so much more she wanted to do and accomplish. At the moment what she had was enough.

"Here," Dave said, pulling out his phone and angling them towards the bridge.

"A selfie? Really? Just like a tourist?" she teased him.

He snapped the picture of them as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Really," he agreed. "You need something to make Penny jealous."

"I didn't take you for the picture person," she commented.

With one arm he held her close and with the other he took another picture, angling the camera to capture as much of them and the bridge as he could. She felt the ping of an incoming text message and sure enough it was the two pictures he took. She saved them, but rather than walking on, they stayed there, leaning side by side against the railing and watching the city pass by around them.

Even at night it was not dead. They were not the only people there either. Other couples and groups stood clumped, looking at the lights.

"I'm not a picture person. But it made you smile." The first of the two pictures was her favorite, but she liked them both.

"Hmmm," Amy agreed. "How do you think the kids are doing?"

She'd left them alone to go to work, but that was at the daycare. She'd pushed aside her worry for long enough. Now she wondered how Beth was faring with them.

"They'll be fine. My mum will take great care of them," he tried to reassure her, though it didn't really take. "Did you know that the actual London Bridge isn't in London. It's in—"

"—Lake Havasu City, Arizona," Amy finished the sentence for him.

"Way to ruin the one and only fun fact I know," Dave said.

"It's part of why you love me."

"That you're a know-it-all?"

"That I'm smart," she corrected him.

His hand found hers, and he laced their fingers together. "Want to keep walking?" he asked.

"Sure," she agreed, stepping away from the railing. She made to continue in the direction they came, but Dave stopped her.

"Other way."

"Any reason why?" she said. They both looked the same to her.

Of course, he seemed determined not to tell her, so they walked instead. Their pace was slow and leisurely, unlike the fast tempo she was accustomed to encountering.

"How is your research going?" he asked. Between Beth and the twins, they hadn't had much time to talk about work.

"I got bit by one of the mice today," Amy commented. It had hurt, but not that badly. She was glad she was working with mice at the moment and not rats.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. That little bastard is in the experimental group."

"Meaning?"

"He'll be dead soon enough."

"He's a mouse. He'll be dead soon regardless."

She had to give him that point. "The surgeries went well," she changed the subject, focusing more on her research and less on the trivial. "I'll be starting the optogenetics experiments next week."

"That's exciting right?" Dave asked, unsure.

"Yes. Yes it is," she agreed, only she didn't really want to talk about her work anymore. She loved it, but there was still a reason it was called work.

They walked along the Thames, and in the dark, the city looked different, not that she'd seen much of it during the day. It really was a shame. She should try to get out more, though between Beth and the infants that would be difficult. She should enjoy the one night with Dave while it lasted, before they had to return to their real lives and all the complications it posed.

They passed by the current London Bridge, an unimpressive work of architecture that was easily overlooked. She and Dave stopped for a while to look at the boat at the Old Thameside Inn. Amy wondered how much more spectacular it would look in the light of day.

"Ready to move on?" Dave asked, and she nodded her agreement. They kept on at their leisurely pace, mostly following the bank of the Thames and occasionally Dave leading her a down nearby streets. Not that much later, they came to the Globe Theatre.

"I'd like to see a play here sometime," Amy said. The historic exterior, and the only thatched roof in all of London, and she was content to see it from the outside, but she wanted to see the inside. To watch a play from the inside and relive a small bit of history.

"That can be arranged," Dave said.

So slight she barely felt it, she wondered if it were just her imagination at first. Then a second and a third raindrop touched her and she knew it was not just her imagination.

"Should we head back?" Dave asked, feeling the rain start just as she did.

"Let's," Amy agreed.

Were they younger, or if they didn't have infants who kept them up more nights than not, Dave would have taken her out dancing, or even to a club. He would have shown her the city and made her fall in love with it. As it was, they returned home.

By the time they got back home, it was raining much harder outside, and even with an umbrella their legs still wound up soaked.

"Good date?" Beth asked upon seeing them return late and partially wet

"Yes. Thank you for watching the kids," Amy told the older woman.

"Don't be. Let me dote on my grandchildren while I can."

"How are they?"

"Asleep upstairs, dear. You have nothing to worry about."

Maybe not but she still stood in the doorway to see the infants sleeping in their cribs. It was her routine every night after she put them to bed. She could not go to sleep without seeing them first.

Dave came up beside her and stood, looking into the interior of the darkened room where the infants slept. Quietly in her ear, he whispered, "Let's go to bed, lover."

She backed out and quietly shut the door behind her. Abruptly she leaned up to kiss him.

Dave smirked. "Now what was that for?"

"Just because."


	48. Chapter 48

"Your refusal to drive is ridiculous," Dave said to her one evening.

She looked at him and frowned.

"It's not ridiculous. It's prudent. Besides, there's no reason for me to drive."

If driving was necessary, Dave could do it. She'd seen more than enough of the streets in central London to know there was LA traffic, which she was accustomed to, and then there was central London traffic. They were entirely different. Maybe, just maybe, if she understood the rules of the road, did not have to worry about turning the wrong way onto the numerous one way streets, or automatically looked left for oncoming traffic when she should have looked right, she might have felt comfortable enough giving it a try. As it was, with the combination of the Tube, buses, Uber, and the lack of available parking, there was absolutely no need for her to drive. None whatsoever.

"Still, we're living here now. You should know how to drive just in case."

"Give me one example of a driving emergency," Amy said, sure she trapped him. After all, nothing could be that urgent.

Dave paused, and she knew he was thinking. She smirked. She would defy him to find a single driving emergency that could not be taken care of in any other way.

"It's still something you should know how to do. I'll teach you."

"I don't want to."

"You're being absurd."

Maybe she was. Maybe she wasn't. But the combination of remembering to drive on the right side of the road, or the left as it were, and the traffic rendered her unwilling to find out.

"No. I'm not."

"I'll make a deal with you."

She looked at him suspiciously. "I'm listening."

"You like Chaucer."

"He's my favorite writer," Amy agreed. She loved medieval literature, and especially medieval poetry.

"I propose a quest like in the _Canterbury Tales_."

She did not know where he was going with it but color her intrigued.

"Go on," she prompted. Whatever his ruse to convince her to learn to drive again, she had to admit it was already starting to work. Just a teensy bit.

"Well, we're going on a quest to Canterbury, only you'll be driving. Come on. I'll even have you drive through Southwark so it's like we're starting there. It's perfect."

It was perfectly coincidental she was forced to agree. Clever though he scheme was, she didn't want to agree to it.

"But my driver's license—"

"—Is valid for the first six months."

Damn it but he was right. She could still drive on her California driver's license.

"Is there anything you haven't thought of?" she asked.

"Probably," Dave admitted, "but we'll take mum and the twins and make a day of it."

"That does sound fun," Amy had to agree, except for the her driving part.

He was amazingly convincing, however.

That was how the family found themselves in the car with the twins safely secured in their car seats. She had to admit to some additional nerves driving with the children in the car, but when she tried to back out and force Dave to drive instead, he insisted.

She felt a bit guilty having Beth sit in the back of the car, but she needed Dave up front to help orient her. At least the gas and break pedals were in the same place. She didn't have to worry about accelerating when she meant to stop.

Dave did his best to direct her, and while she'd read the driving manuals to accustom herself to the road signs in preparation, she felt like she was fifteen and a half again and figuring things out anew. Only there was more traffic, both a blessing and a curse. It meant she did not have to drive as fast and had more time to react.

"Stop laughing at me," Amy complained for the third time in as many minutes. When she automatically went to put on the turn signal, the windshield wipers started. When she automatically reacted to turn off the windshield wipers, she finally put on the turn signal.

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't be laughing," Beth said.

"I appreciate your dedication to the windshield wipers, and I'm sure you'll need them later today, but it isn't actually raining right now."

And that was her husband, simultaneously mocking and insulting her when he was the one she insisted she drive. Miserable experience it was.

"I know that," Amy practically growled. She wasn't used to failing at things. She succeeded at almost everything. Her main difficulty was overcoming years of habit and instinct. What was once seamless now required thought.

At least she always managed to turn into the correct lanes and look for traffic in the right direction. Yet she could feel her blood pressure steadily rising rom the stress of the drive.

As they got outside of central London, a bit of the traffic died down and it became easier to drive, though it was far from pleasurable. It was definitely not a relaxing experience like it was back home where the roads were familiar and she knew the rules instinctively.

Only California wasn't home. Not anymore. And she couldn't allow herself to think that it was. That way lay danger. She was happy. No. Not really happy, but somewhat happy. A short day trip on the weekend with her family was helping to improve her spirits, and Dave was wonderfully encouraging.

And then Felix started crying. Unsure of the problem, she pulled off of the motorway at the next exit. For his incessant teasing, she made her husband take care of the dirty diaper. Even so he was not the least bit cowed as he rejoined her.

Once they arrived into Canterbury she followed Dave's instructions to the car park. Her legs wobbled a bit when she finally stood up. But she did it. She delivered all of them in one piece. Maybe it was the most stressful driving experience of her life—at least since her early teenage years—but it also boosted her confidence. She no longer held the same fear as before.

They toured the Canterbury Cathedral first, a truly spectacular work of architecture, though to Amy's mind, their well informed tour guide did not know nearly enough. She could sit and marvel at the stained glass and the way it reflected the sunlight. They stopped frequently to allow Beth to sit and rest, though she was grateful for the reprieve as well. Felix, for his part, could not stop staring at the stained glass. She watched in fascination as more than once Felix tried to reach out and touch the glass, only to be disturbed that it was too far away.

"Hush, love," she repeated over and over to calm him as he became increasingly distressed that he could not touch the glass. "I know it's pretty. I want to touch it too but we can't."

They saw the place of Martyrdom and the tombs of Henry IV and the Black Prince. She easily could have stayed for longer but the twins were becoming hungry. They stopped by the car for privacy as she attended to them while Beth pretended to be completely oblivious to what was going on.

In the afternoon they went to the Canterbury Tales, a museum dedicated to her favorite poet. It was fun listening to the actors recite some of her favorite lines, though it was an introduction to Chaucer at best. They only spoke in short excerpts, lacking the true complexity of the original. Yet the simplicity and introductory level did not diminish her enjoyment of the experience.

Sitting down to listen to the Knight's Tale, she grasped Dave's hand and whispered quietly to him, "Thank you. This is amazing."

"I knew you'd like it," he whispered back.

She was verbose in her enjoyment of Chaucer, and yet it was different for him to turn her love of Chaucer into reality.

Felix stared in fascination at the actors. During particularly dramatic moments, he cooed at them, trying to find his voice. Cassie remained silent and uninterested in her surroundings. There was a stark difference between the twins. While Felix loved first the stained glass and then the elaborate costumes the actors wore, Cassie was indifferent. While Felix wanted to touch the array of colorful fabrics, Cassie only wanted to pull on Amy's hair. She wasn't strong enough yet that it hurt, but it still wasn't fun having tiny fingers knotted into her hair.

Dave was lucky in that regard. Ever since they'd discovered Cassie's burgeoning fascination with pulling on hair, he started shaving his beard every day. The hair atop his head was too high up for Cassie to reach.

More than once she pulled Cassie's fingers out of her hair only to find them replaced not minutes later.

By the time they finished with the museum, it was growing late. Dave and Beth sat up front while she joined the twins in the back of the car, too exhausted to fight the traffic a second time that day.

Over the next couple of months, Amy noticed the changes to their routine. Sometimes, Beth needed a constant reminder of who she was. Other times, her memory seemed fine.

Some days, when her research was going well and she had time to review her data while in the British Library, she could even say she was content.

On bad days, the feeling ever present at the back of her mind emerged. It was a longing for her birthplace, a desire to move back to California. Only they couldn't. Many days she missed seeing the sun, and while at first she laughed at the Londoners sunbathing in the parks on the warm, sunny days, she got it. She wanted to join them even, to soak up a bit more of the ever elusive sunshine.

She used to love rain, celebrate when it finally came. Not anymore. Rain was yet another nuisance of everyday life. She longed for a break from bad weather.

On the days Beth was well enough to look after the children or when their babysitter was willing to come over, Dave took her to see _The Taming of the Shrew_ at the Globe Theatre where they stood as groundlings. She was never going to go to another play standing up again. Her feet were killing her by the end, and she even sat down on the concrete floor at intermission. They got cheap tickets to _Kinky Boots_ and _Wicked_ and _Les Mis_ on East End. They treated themselves to a traditional Sunday roast at a gastropub. They went to the markets, at first the most famous at Camden and Brick Land, Berwick and Borough, where they stood in line for a coffee shop Dave raved about but as she sipped it, she did not find any evidence to support it's supposed superiority.

Oftentimes, they would just take the twins and walk around. On every corner there was something new to explore, from the world famous British Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum to the lesser known Florence Nightingale Museum and the Wallace Gallery. With the maze of streets, it would take a lifetime to learn every nook and cranny of the city, and even then it was likely impossible.

Sometimes, when the concrete jungle became too cloying, they would go admire the views from Primrose Hill or Greenwich Park. The first time they went to Primrose Hill, she remembered Dave telling her not to look behind her until they got to the top. It was raining, and while the twins were safely covered in the buggy and she and Dave huddled under the umbrellas she always learned to bring with her, she would be content to wait until a clear day. Much as she loved to complain about the weather, and as much as she missed the sun sometimes, the weather was not a horrible as she'd expected.

She wanted to turn back, or to sneak a peak at the skyline, but when they finally got to the top of the hill and she turned around, the view was stunning, rain and low visibility not withstanding.

"This is amazing," she breathed out, half in wonder, and then she looked around her, wondering how many more people would gather there on a clear and sunny day.

"Are you glad you came?" he asked her.

"Yes."

She could not describe the feeling of for the the first time looking at one of the world's most famous skylines, the collection of skyscrapers built in no particular order. The layout was so different than the urban designs she was accustomed to seeing, where all the skyscrapers were clustered together in the downtown area. While it was commonplace in London, she still marveled at how one moment they could walk by an impressive display of modern architecture, buildings that at a glance appeared to defy the laws of physics, and only upon closer observation could she see how they did not crumble to the ground. Right next to the modern buildings would be houses and cathedrals that stood the test of time at hundreds of years of age, from Elizabethan to Victorian architecture, to buildings that were almost a thousand years old, all next to each other, with affectionately given but unofficial nicknames.

She quickly learned the places so crowded they were best avoided entirely, from Piccadilly Circus to Oxford Street. As much as she longed to return to California and as much as she missed having friends nearby, a small part of her was becoming enamored by the city. Despite her occasional fits of unhappiness, she came to understand the meaning of the oft quoted, 'When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life' (1).

Those weren't the only changes to take place. While in California she accompanied Dave to a football game, now they were in London, he went with his friends instead. At first, he invited her along, but more often than not she declined, needed to take care of the children when Beth was not well enough.

She did not like the football games much either. If she thought they were loud and crowded back in LA, they were even more so here. If Dave did not go with his friends to a game, they would often go to one of the many nearby pubs. The activity held no interest to her, to be in a crowded space with only standing room watching a sport she did not particularly enjoy and only feigned interest to blend into the crowd. No thank you.

In a way, it was nice that Dave had his friends to go with. It spared her the discomfort, not that she minded before. Oftentimes, when the English teams were doing well, she could hear the singing, a faint blur in the air, the words not clear enough to make out yet she could hear the sound of victory in the air.

Interspersed with her growing love of her new home, there were still times of melancholy, and they came more frequently than not.

"I'd love to move to London," Penny said wistfully as Amy gave her a recap of the past two weeks. Penny did not enjoy museums, but the rich and vibrant London culture her best friend would love.

Amy smiled, though it seemed forced. "I know you would," Amy said. "Maybe you could come visit us sometime."

It was an open invitation, a cry for her friend to come sometime. Anytime. Amy did not care. She could and did talk with Penny at least once a week, if not more, but it was not the same as being there in person. It was better when they could go out to a bar or restaurant together, or any other number of activities they found.

"I'd like that. Now tell me, have you seen. . ."

Maybe that was far from Amy's favorite discussion topic, wanting to hear more about California than she wanted to talk about her own life and experiences, but listening to Penny was also relaxing. It reminded her of home.

Only she already was at home.

As frequently as she spoke with Penny, Amy was surprised that she spoke even more frequently with Bernadette. Perhaps it was because their lives were more similar. With the both of them having young children, there were a lot of topics they wished to discuss that Penny had no interest in. Be it babies (Felix's vocabulary was still inarticulate but his range of sounds were growing while Cassie remained worryingly silent except for her occasional laughter, and then it was only ever directed at Dave) or biology, personal or professional, she had more in common with Bernadette. It had always been true, she supposed, but with the distance, the shift in interactions was inevitable.

Penny was still her best friend. No amount of closeness with Bernadette could ever get between that strength of friendship.

She understood why change could be terrifying. She'd walked into it with open arms and hadn't looked back. She wasn't about to start now.

At the same time the change was too much. She wasn't happy. By this point in her life, she was supposed to be happy. She loved her husband and adored her children. In a couple of months if everything went well, she would be submitting her next article for publication to _Nature_. By all discernible measures her life was a success. Miraculously, and largely thanks to the babysitter, personally and professionally she was thriving. High functioning and unhappy was what she was. Being miserably tired all the time from overextending herself despite the extra help only served to make matters worse.

She told herself that she just needed to give it time. Everything would get better eventually. She would make friends again. As the children became older she would be able to get more sleep and not feel like she was in a state of constant exhaustion. She took on a graduate student and, for the first time ever, a handful of undergraduate students, to work in her lab. She needed the additional help. With infants at home, she could not spend all hours of the evenings and weekends going into work. While she handed off some of her responsibilities, she took the time to train her people well. Her reputation was too pristine to ruin it with subpar work.

By training people she was able to do more, even taking on more than one project at once. She should be happier. Her lab was being more productive. She was gaining a name for herself, even more than she already had.

She'd worried about changing her name, even only by hyphenation, afraid that the scientific community would not associate the publications of Amy F. Fowler with the newer publications of Amy F. Fowler-Gibbs. So many women in her profession who married opted to never change their names for that very reason. She finally settled on continuing to use her maiden name for her publications alone.

There was always that longing for more. No matter how much she did it did not go away. First she gained a reputation for herself in her chosen field. Then she longed for a relationship. Then she had a relationship and she longed for children. Then she had children. It was a never ending cycle. Each time she achieved something she wanted, she needed more. Desired more.

She longed to have friends close enough she could invite them over for dinner. She wanted friends she could go out with on the weekends, or who she could, at the very least, see frequently. Technology could not fill that void in her life.

Everything would work out. Eventually. Only she did not want eventually. She wanted now. Patient as she could be, she didn't always feel that way. Her worries, her disquiet, they would eventually be resolved.

Only she did not want to passively wait for it to happen.

As per her prediction, things eventually did work out, and that happened about three months later at work. They were being introduced to the newest faculty member.

"Nice to meet you Dr Davenport," Amy said as she shook the woman's hand.

"Please, call me Ann. And you are Dr Fowler? I saw you speak at a conference in Boston."

Amy smiled. Here was someone familiar with her work and that made her proud. "Its Dr Fowler-Gibbs now. And call me Amy."

"Nice to meet you Amy. And congratulations."

"Thank you."

Amy volunteered to show her around the department, and though they were working on separate experiments, she found herself inviting the other woman to join her for lunch. She found people to eat with so she did not end up eating alone, per say, and they were perfectly friendly to her. Yet at the same time they were not her friends. Here was someone else who was new and they seemed to be getting along quite well.

"So Ann, tell me a bit about yourself?" Amy asked. Though she still did not always understand the reason for the social niceties, she went for it anyways.

To her surprise, Ann appeared a bit uncomfortable, but she eventually said, "Well, I used to work in Edinburgh, but I thought it was time for a change and when I found a job here, well, I was excited to take it. It's not very exciting. If I may ask, what brought an American here?"

Amy laughed. "That obvious?" she said, though she knew her accent was easily recognizable. "My mother-in-law was recently diagnosed with Alzheimers. We moved here to take care of her."

She felt open as she explained that, though it was never anything she tried to keep secret. It just felt . . . personal. Not that she ever had problems discussing her personal life and a whole range of highly uncomfortable topics.

"I'm sorry. How long have you been here?"

"Eight months."

By the end of lunch, they ended up exchanging Whatsapp numbers and Amy thought she might be well on her way to making her first friend in London. With that in mind, she resolved to talk to Dave and figure out a day she could invite her new coworker over for dinner, or perhaps meet at a restaurant together, though the thought of taking the twins out in public for a prolonged length of time was fairly unappealing and she decided she would much prefer to invite Ann over where the twins crying would not prove to be as much of a nuisance.

Happy to broach the subject that night with Dave, she rapidly decided against speaking up at that current moment. She arrived home after picking up the twins from daycare. They were both crying and she went to feed them. Once they were reasonably settled, she went to find Dave.

He had a pained expression and he looked like he was about to start yelling, highly unusual for his gentle demeanor.

"You deal with her," he hissed as he moved past her, "I can't do this anymore."

She looked at Beth sitting on the couch talking. "Dave," she warned, "be nice."

He frowned. "I'm trying. But she told me the same story five times today. Five times."

"You're just tired. You don't mean that. Take a break. I'll talk to her for now."

Amy took Dave's seat on the couch right next to Beth. Her mother-in-law did not even notice the change in person next to her. She continued on with her story. Amy tried to appear interested, though it had something to do with marmalade and stale toast and was not terribly entertaining. However, she forced herself to smile and occasionally make small comments, and that was enough to keep the woman content. Mentally, she noted her observations to record later on. This was a good opportunity to conduct a prolonged study even if it lacked scientific rigor without a control group and a large sample size.

* * *

Notes:

(1) Quote attributed to Samuel Johnson.


	49. Chapter 49

"Hi dad," Amy said when her father called. She looked at his face over the video screen and he seemed troubled.

"How are you?"

"Good. You?"

"Good."

Silence fell between them and she was not quite sure what to say. She had not spoken to either of her parents since that day months ago when they showed up at her house to confront her about not telling them she was even pregnant. Without knowing to what extent she alienated them, she waited for her dad to speak first.

"And the children. They're doing alright too?"

"They are," Amy said, then, thinking she could make steps at mending their relationship, offered, "I can show them to you."

"That would be great. Let me get your mother first."

Amy waited while her dad went to get her mom. They both said hurtful things to the other, and she was not looking forward to having to face the music.

"Hello Amy," Mrs Fowler said.

"Hi mother," she reciprocated.

She showed her parents their grandchildren, and once they were done cooing over the babies, she returned to face them. Both of them seemed softer after her peace offering.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you," she said yet again.

Her parents both became serious.

"For whatever we did to make you uncomfortable telling us, I'm sorry as well," her dad said. Mrs Fowler did not agree with her husband but for whatever reason Amy could not fathom, she said nothing.

"Thank you," Amy said. She looked at her mother. "I didn't mean what I said. I was tired and upset. I really am sorry."

Mrs Fowler pursed her lips. "Very well. I believe you." Amy waited for the apology in return but it never came. She would have to forgive her mother as is or she would never have the chance to forgive her.

"Amy, dear, can you come help me?" a voice said from behind her shoulder. Turning around briefly, she saw Beth standing there holding a frying pan and looking confused.

"I have to go," Amy told her parents and hung up.

"What do you need?" Amy said, taking the frying pan from Beth's hand.

"I was going to make an omelet but we don't have any eggs."

"Let me take a look," Amy said, moving to the fridge where there were a dozen eggs.

"Those aren't supposed to be in there," Beth commented, confused to find the eggs in the fridge.

"Sorry. Habit," Amy said.

Soon after Amy and Ann decided to tour some of the museums together. They decided to skip the press of bodies in the more crowded sections and instead discussed the artwork and history behind the pieces. Having even a single friend to spend the day with on weekends went a long way to easing Amy's loneliness even she she kept in frequent contact with Penny and Bernadette. Then Ann took her to a Pub Quiz one Monday and every Monday after that was dubbed Pub Quiz night, at least for the two of them. Being able to go out once a week and grab a drink with her friend—and they placed first every week as well—brought back a sense of normalcy that was previously lacking. While it was Monday instead of Thursday, she was a bit surprised at first to find the pubs so crowded even on a Monday. After a few weeks, she noticed the crowds less and less until she did not find it surprising at all. Also new to her was the concept of stepping outside with her drink when the sky was relatively clear and the weather was not downright cold. It seemed just as many people preferred to cluster outside the pubs as they did inside.

The next step in their friendship occurred when she invited Ann and her boyfriend over for dinner. The couple enjoyed the babies. Her friend group consisted of only one friend but it was enough.

However much or little fulfillment she got from her personal life on a daily basis, the move afforded her new opportunities at work. Glad to finally be moving onto new, non-addiction related studies, she instead focused on memory and recognition, a topic more applicable to her own life.

"Amy, do you have any plans for Christmas?" Ann asked one day.

"Not really, no," Amy said.

"Well, I was hoping you would come over to my place. I'm hosting my family, but I would love to have you and your family join us."

"Thank you. I'll talk to Dave and see but that sounds wonderful."

Dave agreed to the scheme, given that the only family he had around for Christmas was his mother.

Though she felt in a continual state of exhaustion, she was not unhappy, but neither could she claim happiness. Life was simple, it seemed.

Felix began making recognizable sounds, 'ma' and 'da' primarily. His experiments with singing now included words. Not comprehensible words, but words nonetheless. Amy praised him for trying to speak. More of a concern was Cassie's prolonged silence. She cried and laughed and her face in general was indicative of her expressions, but she did not verbalize. Amy spent hours speaking to her and encouraging her to respond, but all she would get were giggles and Cassie's fingers pulling at her her hair. According to their doctor, Amy had nothing to worry about, though shouldn't the twins be progressing at relatively the same pace? In all else, they were right on par, in competition with each other.

While her daughter might be behind when it came to words, she was the first of the children to crawl, and then to walk, though in both instances, Felix followed right after, not one to be long outdone by his older sister.

It was time to fully baby proof the house. Her preparedness insured she already had all the necessary items, and it was time to install them. First she checked to make sure the switches were off on all the unused plugs. As she crawled along the floor, she could feel Beth watching her.

"Good," the older woman commented, though about what Amy had not the faintest idea.

She moved onto the cabinets and toilets next. Finally she started setting up a the pressure gates at the top and bottom of the stairs.

"Make sure it's secure," Beth advised, "when the little one gets here in two months, I don't want him to get hurt."

"It's secure," Amy agreed and moved on to the gate at the top. She did not bother correcting Beth. It would do no good.

"When Arthur gets home, he'll check. He's going to be such a good daddy. Isn't that right?" Beth's hands roamed over her flat stomach in a gesture Amy recognized as very familiar from the later stages of her own pregnancy. Arthur, Amy learned from Beth, was Dave's father, though he passed a couple of years back.

"We don't want the little one to fall. Now mummy is hungry and needs a snack."

Amy stood up and sighed. "I'll make you a sandwich," she said as she led Beth and helped her sit down at the table. She quickly prepped the sandwich, but Beth frowned when she saw it.

"I can't eat that," the woman said.

Amy wanted to roll her eyes. She needed patience, she reminded herself. "Why not?" she asked.

"I can't eat cold cuts," Beth informed her, "it's bad for the baby. Arthur and I are going to call him Dave. Isn't that a good name? Dave Gibbs."

It was times like this Amy was glad Dave went to soccer games with his mates and he was not around to be hurt. While it was not Beth's fault she could sometimes look at him an no longer recognize him, it hurt him all the same. She couldn't imagine what it would be like for her mother to look straight through her and not recognize her, and Mrs Fowler was . . . Mrs Fowler. Amy did not even like her and she still knew it would hurt if her mother couldn't recognize her.

"That's a wonderful name," Amy agreed, because it was all she could do. "I heated the meats. You can eat them." She hadn't, but Beth wasn't actually pregnant after all. Recently, she'd begun to think she was back in her early thirties and pregnant with Dave. The new transition was difficult on her husband to say the least.

Beth began eating, much to Amy's relief. She bought the lie.

"Arthur and I still can't come up with a middle name. What do you think of Randall?"

Amy grimaced.

"Arthur felt the same way," Beth mused. "No to Randall then. But I also like Michael. Dave Michael Gibbs."

That name sounded wrong to Amy as well.

"Perhaps—" she started, but it was as if Beth did not hear her.

"Or Trevor. Dave Trevor Gibbs. No. That's not right at all."

It seemed to Amy that Beth went through the list of every possible name one by one and rejected them. At least the conversation required no effort on Amy's part, and the few times she did attempt to speak, Beth promptly cut her off as if Amy was not even there to begin with. Beth did not need an attentive audience to prattle on to, only a captive one, which, for the time being, Amy was.

Luckily, Beth was asleep long before Dave arrived home after the match. She could by his posture that his team won, and even that was before she saw his face.

"Good game?" she asked.

"We won," he announced, and then proceeded to give her the details of the entire football match. Once again she tuned out the details. She was well practiced at it by now.

"It sounds like you had a fun night," she said. He was drunk as well, but that was nothing new.

"I did," he agreed.

"That's wonderful. Now let's get you to bed," she advised. When the headache came, and it would come, she would prefer him to be asleep already or he would keep her up half the night.

"But I'm not tired," he protested.

"You've had a lot to drink," she said.

"I've only had three . . . no four . . . no five. Come to think of it, I don't know how many beers I've had."

"You've had a lot to drink," Amy repeated.

She led him to their bedroom, and all the while he protested, saying he was not tired yet. She told him to shower and in the mean time, she retrieved the paracetamol for him to take in the morning as well as a large bottle of water for him to drink before going to sleep.

On weekends when it rained, as it frequently did, they tried introducing the children to the many museums to be had. Felix had an endless fascination with the treasures to be seen in the Tate Modern, and Amy suspected he could spend hours there if not for Cassie's fussing and boredom that required them to leave after not that long a time. In fact, virtually any art museum could interest Felix for awhile, but the only museum Cassie ever took an interest in was the Natural History Museum, which was hardly surprising given it afforded her many opportunities to touch in a very tactile state of development.

If they were lucky enough to have a weekend day without rain, the family walked around Regents Park and went to the zoo, an outing that proved exhausting for her and Dave both, though the entire family enjoyed it immensely. In fact, it was at the zoo when much of Amy's worries were relieved.

"Look!" Dave exclaimed as he pointed to the Okapi. Cassie held tightly to his hand, looking around warily at the strangers. "Do you know what animal that is?" he asked.

Cassie shook her head no, and Amy exchanged yet another worried look with him. Despite all attempts on both their parts to draw her out, she still did not speak.

"Come on, Cassie, we read about this, remember?" It was from one of the many books she and Dave read to them, and Cassie finger's had often traced the outline of the animal.

"Muh-ma," a recognizable voice said.

Amy swallowed thickly.

"That's right," she said, and had to force herself not to coo. "Felix, you just said mommy's name. Dave! Did you hear that?"

Dave was grinning down at Felix as well. "I did."

Felix looked proud of himself, especially under the praise.

"Muh-ma," he repeated, louder the second time. Amy did not think she could smile anymore if she tried.

"That's right baby. Can you say daddy's name too?" Dave encouraged.

Felix scrunched his face up as he looked between her and Dave.

"Da-da," he eventually said.

"That's right. I'm daddy," Dave said, looking exceedingly proud of himself.

Encouraged by all the attention, Felix pointed to the then forgotten animal. "Eeb-ah."

"Hmmm? What's that?" Amy asked again.

Felix frowned, likely in frustration at not being able to say the word right. "Eeb-ra," he tried again clumsily.

"Do you mean zebra?" Amy asked.

"Eeb-ah," Felix confirmed.

While she was thrilled he was starting to talk, and she should be pleased he was making connections between the animals in the book and at the zoo, and she knew he was not old enough yet to tell the small differences in appearance between animals, she still worried that he got the answer wrong, as if it was somehow a fault of her. That she messed up and could have done better.

"No, love, that's not a zebra," Dave said softly.

"It's not a zebra. It's an okapi."

Amy's jaw dropped and she had to look twice to the source of the voice to confirm she was hearing correctly, because there Cassie stood staring straight at the Okapi, as she spoke. And not just baby syllables either. Full sentences with correct grammar.

She was blown away.

Recovering from her shock, Amy said, "That's right. It's an okapi."

Cassie could speak? Since when could Cassie speak? That was the first time Amy or Dave had heard her even try to say something, and for the first words out of her mouth to be so elaborate was astounding.

"That's right Cassie. It's an okapi," Dave confirmed.

"Eeb-ah," Felix repeated desperately. He could sense the shift in her parent's attentions from himself to his sister and he did not like that loss one bit. The attention for being the first child to speak belonged to him. "Eeb-ah. Eeb-ah," he repeated desperately.

"Okapi," Cassie insisted.

"Eeb-ah."

Thus the first war between siblings began. "She's speaking," Amy said with wonder. Her daughter was capable of speaking.

"I can't believe it. It's fantastic!" Dave agreed enthusiastically.

Their side conversation was loudly ignored to the repeated 'okapi' and 'eeb-ah' as each twin vied to assert their viewpoint to the other. Their parents, in comparison, did not matter at all.

"Okapi."

"Eeb-ah."

"Okapi," Cassie insisted still more loudly.

"She's a know it all just like you," Dave said in her ear. She was insulted. He was right of course. Cassie looked and sounded exactly like her, even using the same patronizing tone Amy used when she corrected a mistake.

"Am not," Amy protested. She was. Maybe just a little. "Don't call me that." She playfully slapped Dave's arm, though that movement caught Cassie's attention.

The young girl stopped in the middle of yet another repeated 'okapi'. "Mummy, don't hit daddy."

She said it so frankly and with such seriousness Amy had to struggle not to laugh. "The books say don't hit."

"That's right," Amy was forced to agree. Some of the picture books did say that, and she said it as well. "Mommy shouldn't have hit daddy. I'm sorry," she said, more for Cassie's benefit than Dave's. She hadn't hit him hard enough to hurt. It was a playful gesture after all.

"Da-da?" Felix asked. He hated having the spotlight directed at Cassie and not him.

"Daddy's alright," Dave assured the children. He showed them his arm. "See. Not hurt," he said.

That was the first of one of many excursions to the zoo, and each time, it held no less fascination for the children.

Once Cassie started speaking, she simply did not stop. It was as if the lightbulb was suddenly turned on, and she was consumed by intelligence. Felix struggled to catch up.

Cassie started to sing, and at each concert the twins put on, Amy and Dave had to struggle not to laugh as one twin knew all the words but was horribly out of tune while the other could sing with the correct pitches but whose words were incorrect. It was an amusing spectacle to behold, and one she recorded on the camera.

"You know what I want?" Dave said one night as they cuddled and waited to fall asleep.

"What?" Amy asked.

"I'd really like a weekend getaway with just you."

"Hmm," she sighed, "that would be nice. Where would we go?" she fantasized.

She knew actually going on a weekend away with just the two of them was impossible. They could not leave Beth unattended for the whole weekend, and nor did she want their babysitter to take care of the children for three days straight. Without either of them having family around, there was no one else she could ask. Perhaps Ann, but she did not want to put that type of pressure onto her friend.

"Where would you want to go?" Dave asked.

"I don't know. Maybe Rome. Or Barcelona. Vienna. Prague. You choose," Amy said.

"We could go to Paris."

"Romantic." Her heart beat faster even just thinking about it as they allowed whimsy to guide their fantasy.

"We'd spend the day touring the Louvre and sitting at a café with a view of the Eiffel Tour. Then I'd take you out dancing late into the night."

"That sounds wonderful," Amy sighed, sad it could not happen.

"It does," Dave agreed. "Your turn."

Her supply of whimsy was exhausted for the night, she said, "Dave, can you tell me something?"

"Anything," he promised. She pointed out to him that was a ridiculous promise to make as he did not know what she wanted him to say.

"Tell me we made the right decision moving," she said, wanting to hear the validation.

Dave turned over on his side to face her. "You're not happy," he stated.

She sighed. "I'm not unhappy," she admitted. She made a friend, which helped, and the newness of her surroundings no longer fazed her as they became commonplace. She became better at picking up on and understanding the hodgepodge of accents she heard everywhere, yet still there was a longing she felt for home.

She thought having children would make her happy, and they did to an extent. She adored Felix and Cassie and would would not give them up for anything, and yet that feeling of bliss and completion that she expected to come once she finally had her children, that relief from the loneliness, it never did. She was much the same, other than she was more tired and her belly still had the stretch marks from rapid grown. While she felt pride in their accomplishments, wonder at the rate with which they developed, and utterly entranced by their intelligence and world view, both limited and observant at the same time, they did not provide the missing meaning in her life. Only when she was alone with Dave and truly relaxed did she feel that happiness she expected. Then real life intruded and she went by life in a daze.

"But that's not happy," Dave observed. He began massaging her arms and neck just as she taught him and against her will her body relaxed.

"Are you happy?" she asked him, needing to know the answer.

"Absolutely," he said, and at his happiness she felt what: envy, sadness, relief that he at least was glad to be back home. "That upsets you," he observed.

She sighed. She was being petty. "It doesn't upset me. Not really. I just . . . I wish I could be happy like you. I want to be happy. I love you and the kids and I always thought that once I had this, this family—" she gestured vaguely into space "—that I would be happy and fulfilled but I'm still waiting for that to happen."

"How can I help?" She adored the way he tried to make her comfortable, even if there was nothing he could do; she appreciated that he tried.

"You can't," she said. "My mother and I talked without fighting," Amy abruptly changed the subject.

"That's great," Dave said.

"Now I just feel bad. My dad never even got to see his grandchildren in person, and my mother only briefly."

"Don't feel bad," Dave said, "it was as much their fault as yours."

He was on her side even when she was less sure of herself. Of her own convictions.

Time passed by in a blur. She went from one event to the next in seeming disconnect, though all the while she felt like a frazzled mess. Her research on memory and pattern recognition was coming along well. The twins passed the documentable milestones.

She was there with the camera for the first time they rolled over on their own; their first words and their fight to outdo the other; the first time Cassie walked and Felix, not long to be outdone by his older sister, followed; the broken bone from falling after scaling the countertop; the skinned knees from falling too hard on the carpet; the endless cooking of child-friendly yet still healthy dinners. The list could go on and on.

Yet for all that she felt little need to be nostalgic. Unlike Howard who constantly shared pictures of Halley's achievements, Amy felt no need to post them over the internet. Her children were smart like their parents. She was in awe, and in love, but for her, the most memorable moments were no to be shared with everyone on the internet, only her friends, Ann and Penny and Bernadette.


	50. Chapter 50

By the age of three, both Cassie and Felix had rudimentary reading skills. Their rapid progress seemed largely to come out of the competition between them. Any progress one made was rapidly matched and surpassed by the other in a bid to gain more attention. It seemed every time Amy blinked there was some new change.

"Mummy?" Cassie said.

"Yes."

"I'm going to read every book," Cassie declared, looking at the large bookshelf in the living room, one of the few changes Amy made to the house in the couple of years since they moved in.

"Is that so? There are a lot of books there." Over four thousand by her latest count, and many of them textbooks. There were not many light, child friendly novels on those bookshelves. The children's books were separate, in the children's rooms, and Cassie and Felix read them faster than she could buy new ones.

"I'm going to read them all," Cassie announced, pulling out the text on the lower left.

"You can try," Amy said with amusement. Dedicated though Cassie was to reading, those books were beyond her comprehension level, if she did not grow bored of them entirely.

Her challenge, rather than discourage her daughter, only spurred her on.

"Yes I will. I'll prove it," Cassie insisted.

Felix, his attention until that point distracted by building blocks, ran over to them. "Me too. Me too," he insisted.

Once Cassie could speak, it seemed she taught Felix how to speak properly as well, and he picked up the language quickly.

"Pick up your toys first, Felix," Amy reminded.

"But I don't wanna," he protested.

"Mommy isn't going to pick them up for you. Put your toys away first and then you can read."

Felix looked like he was about to have a tantrum.

"Don't wanna."

"Don't want to," Amy corrected. "Now pick them up."

Felix stared at her wide eyed for a moment, as if contemplating resisting, and then he went to do as he was told. Granted, he shoved the blocks into their box as quickly as he could and stacked the box on top of the pile in the closet, rather than in the middle where it belonged. Amy let that small little difference go. The asymmetry of the toy boxes not being stacked from largest to smallest would bug her after awhile, but throughout toddlerhood she learned to pick her battles carefully.

While Felix gave up on the 'grown-up' books, as he called them, within minutes, Cassie kept reading the first text she choose. Amy was surprised by that, as it was a difficult book on anthropology.

The next book was an anatomy text, though within the first couple of pages, Cassie pushed it aside.

Amy tried not to let her amusement get the best of her. "Something wrong?" she asked.

"Biology is icky," Cassie announced.

Instead of feeling offended that her daughter pronounced her field of study icky, Amy could only laugh. "No it's not," she argued.

Cassie scrunched up her face in surprise, and then turned the open book towards Amy and pointed at the first diagram of the brain.

"It's icky," Cassie repeated. Cassie randomly flipped to the middle of the book and squealed.

Amy looked over her shoulder and saw a labeled illustration of a kidney. "That's your kidney. It's right here." Amy lightly touched the approximate spot on Cassie's body.

"It looks gross," Cassie said.

"Are you going to give up after only two books?" Amy asked, wondering if the biological text was too much for her daughter.

"No," Cassie said. She wasn't about to give up. Much to Amy's surprise, she read the entirety of the book.

Next she moved onto a Calculus text, and while Amy knew Cassie would have little to no understanding of it, for some reason the text fascinated her.

"Daddy, what's this?" She pointed to the infinity symbol.

"That's infinity," Dave said absently, only briefly looking up from his book.

"What's infinity?"

"It's refers to a number that is very, very large."

"Like a trillion," Cassie said proudly.

"Not a trillion. That's a number. Infinity is too large to be assigned a number."

"Why?"

Dave look helplessly at her, and Amy shrugged. If the questions were directed at him for once and not her, she would catch her break while she could. She sent him a look that said he was on his own.

 _Traitor_ , he silently sent back at her.

"I'll show you," he said instead and got a whiteboard. On it, he drew a line, and at the very left edge, labeled a zero.

"This is a number line. Here is zero, and then we can move a little to the right, and we have one, and then two. What's the next number?"

"Three," Cassie said proudly and she drew it on the board.

"That's right. And what comes after three?"

"Four." Cassie added the tick for the four as well.

"Now we can keep doing this." With his own marker, Dave labeled more points until he came to the edge of the white board. "Now what do you think happens?"

"It ends. But daddy, fourteen comes after thirteen so it can't end."

Dave smiled proudly. "That's right love. Now imagine this line continues on forever. Then infinity is the point that is furthest to the right."

"But if it goes on forever and ever, there is no point furthest to the right."

"Precisely. That's infinity."

Cassie looked confused for a moment, but Amy could see the spark of understanding as a small portion of the intangible concept became evident to her.

She clapped her hands together. "I get it!" she exclaimed.

"That's right."

Cassie went back to her book, but not two minutes later, she carried the textbook and placed it on top of Dave's, all the while sitting as close to him on the couch as she could and leaning over the book as well.

"Daddy, what's this?"

"That's a limit."

"What's a limit?"

Dave sighed and set aside his own book after marking his spot with a bookmark.

Amy periodically caught portions of their conversation, and by the end, it was apparent the incessant barrage of questions tired Dave out though Cassie was still entranced.

"What's epsilon?" Cassie asked a while later.

"Daddy's tired," Dave said.

"And it's time for dinner," Amy added.

"But I want to learn more maths," Cassie protested.

"Come on. Dinner time," Amy said instead, and the lure of food was enough to tear Cassie away from the calculus book.

That night as they lay in bed, Dave said, "I think I should order some maths books for her. She wants to learn."

"What about when she gets to school? If she knows too much, the other children might mock her." The last thing Amy wanted for her children was a childhood filled with bullies and being picked on.

"Maybe. But I don't like the idea of holding her back when she wants to learn."

"Me neither," Amy agreed. "Just, start her out simple. I don't want her getting too far ahead."

"You worry to much, love," Dave said.

"Do I?" Amy asked. While worry had become a constant ever since they were born, she had not though herself to be excessive in that regard.

Dave ordered introductory math workbooks for Cassie and they soon developed a routine. After Dave got back from work, he would teach her two lessons, and Cassie would proceed to do all the practice problems. Dave would check them, and most of the time they were entirely correct, but when they weren't, he went back and taught her all over again and had her redo the problems until they were correct. She breezed by addition and subtraction in a week, and multiplication and division in another week. Her pace astounded Amy.

Meanwhile, Felix became increasingly jealous at the amount of attention Cassie received from Dave. He retaliated by clinging even more heavily to her.

"Please, mummy, please please please. I want one." Ever since he saw a woman playing a violin on the television, he'd begged her incessantly for one. As he was only four, she was not sure he was old enough yet.

"Maybe when you're older," Amy would say to put him off.

"I'm older today," he would tell her the following day. His logic was impeccable. On that one regard she could not fault him. "Please can I have a violin now."

"When you're older," Amy would repeat.

"How old?"

"Older."

She had to refrain from snapping, and it was difficult. Incessant questions were hard to bear at times. She encouraged questions in principle, as they were fundamental to science, and life in general, and yet she was starting to think there was an upper limit on the number of questions her children could ask her before she became insane.

"Mummy?"

"Hmmm," she replied, more focused on making dinner and keeping Felix away from the open oven than on what he was saying.

"How come you talk funny?"

She shut the oven door and put the roasting pan onto the counter to cool just enough to be served.

"What was that?" she asked, having missed the question entirely.

"How come you talk funny?"

"I don't talk funny," Amy protested.

"Yes you do. You sound different from daddy and nana and everyone at daycare."

He seemed perfectly earnest and Amy did not know what to say.

"Do you think Aunt Penny and Uncle Leonard also speak funnily?" Amy asked.

While Felix did not remember ever meeting them in person, being a few days old the last time that occurred, Felix and Cassie both could recognize their godparents from Amy's frequent Skype calls.

"Yes. Why?" Felix asked.

"It's because mommy and Aunt Penny and Uncle Leonard all grew up in America, so we speak differently than the English."

"But why?"

"Because people have different accents when they come from different places."

"What's an accent?"

"It's when people talk differently. Daddy and nana are from Surrey, so they speak differently than Ann who is from Leeds."

"Is that why Miss Ann sounds funny?"

"She doesn't sound funny. But she does have a different accent. And do you remember the way people spoke when we went to Manchester?"

"They also sounded funny," Felix said.

Amy sighed. "That's right. They also have a different accent."

"But why?"

"Because languages are a bit like a person. They grow and change over time when people are separated geographically."

"Why?"

"They just do."

"Why?"

Amy was nearing the end of her patience for repeated questions. "Why don't you go tell everyone that it's dinner time."

Much to her relief, Felix ran off to summon everyone for dinner.

Felix's questions did not stop there.

"Hold mommy's hand," Amy said yet again. Though it was a Saturday morning and the underground was much less crowded than it was during her commute, it was still crowded and she did not want them to get separated.

At least she did not have to worry about Cassie who was intently grilling Dave about something or other math related, but she was too busy trying to get Felix to stay close to her to pay much attention.

Felix's small fingers slipped into hers, but just as soon as they did he pulled away from her again. "I want to press the button," he replied when she told him to come back over to her.

"You don't need to press the button. The doors open on their own."

"Why?"

"Because they just do."

"Then why's there a button?"

"I don't know. Now come back here."

Felix did as he was told.

"Mummy?"

"Yes."

"Who's the lady?"

"What lady?"

"The lady with the voice."

"What voice?"

Felix stood up straight. "Please mind the gap—" he mimicked.

"I don't know who she is, love," Amy said, now understanding he was talking about the voice announcing the stops.

"Why not?"

"Because I just don't," Amy said.

"She doesn't sound funny," Felix observed.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Move over love. You need to stand on the right," Amy reminded Felix for the third time on the escalator. However, each time he became excited, he started moving about, cutting off the walkers on the left who were understandably frustrated.

"I want to see the _Lion King_ ," Felix said, looking at one of the many advertisements.

"Alright," she said nonchalantly.

"Please can we go see the _Lion King_?"

"Lion King? I want to see the Lion King. Please can we go to the zoo today mummy?" Cassie cut in, having been distracted from her own conversation with Dave.

"The _Lion King_ isn't at the zoo. It's a show with singing and dancing."

"Never mind," Cassie said.

"Please, mummy, I really want to go."

"Watch your step," Amy said, helping him get off the escalator successfully and holding tightly to his hand in case she needed to lift him up.

She could look into getting tickets, for as entranced as he was by artwork, he might have the patience to sit through a show, unlike Cassie who would become utterly bored. For the meantime, she knew better than to make promises she was unsure about keeping.

The hardest questions of all were about Beth.

"Mummy?" Felix asked.

"Yes."

She set aside the book she was attempting to read. Ever since the children, she'd had far less time for reading and she knew already he would not quit bugging her until she answered whatever question he had.

She did a double take when she saw he was close to tears, though at his age, it could be from just about anything.

"How come nana . . ."

"What is it," she encouraged him.

"How come nana doesn't know my name?"

He sounded so hurt Amy did not know what to say.

"Come sit on mommy's lap," she encouraged, and hugged him once he clambered to get close to her. He held tightly onto her cardigan as he started to cry.

"Mummy?" That time it was Cassie.

"Yes love?"

"I want hugs too."

"Come on up," Amy encouraged, shifting Felix to make room for the two of them. Though Cassie kept her emotions much more in check than Felix did, she could see Cassie was distressed as well.

Cassie's fingers tangled in her hair.

"Not my hair," Amy said and pulled the fingers out again.

"How come nana forgot me?" Cassie asked.

"It's complicated," Amy said, and she began to explain what Alzheimer's was and that it wasn't nana's fault she could not remember her grandchildren anymore, and it did not mean she loved them any less.

"But you can make nana better right," Cassie pleaded. "You work with icky brains. You can make her better." Her daughter sounded so hopeful and Amy did not want to let her down. But she had to.

"I wish I could," Amy said, "But some parts of the brain even I don't know how to fix."

"But you can fix anything," Felix said, "You know everything."

"I know a lot, but I don't know everything," Amy corrected him, "And I can't do anything to help Nana remember."

"Will you forget me?" Cassie asked, a sudden panic overcoming her. "Will you get Als . . . alts . . ."

"Alzheimers," Amy said.

"That. Will you get that?"

"I don't know. I know it's hard on you, but mommy and daddy are here and we won't forget you."

Felix squeezed her tighter. "Promise you won't forget me?"

He sounded vulnerable and afraid, and her heart broke for the two of them, a reminder that no matter how hard she and Dave found the situation, it would be even harder on young children. Intelligent though they were, they were attached to their nana and her decline was hard on them, if not harder.


	51. Chapter 51

Trying to find new activities to do as a family and to satisfy her own interest in history, on the weekends Amy would take her family to tour various castles, to the pier at Brighton, and to Bath, to Stratford-Upon-Avon, and for all the ancient history that surrounded the places they went, she did not become immersed in it like she used to. Over time, she stopped admiring the castles. They were everywhere and one tour blurred into the next.

Her excitement over the rain died out just as quickly, the incessant droplets of water pouring from the sky an annoyance. There were days she longed for a full day of sunlight.

"Amy," Ann said to her one day, "Don't take this the wrong way, but are you alright? Are you really alright?"

Her friend wasn't just asking the traditional British pleasantry but asked her in all earnestness.

"I suppose," she said, not wanting to call her ennui and lack of enthusiasm depression and yet it was as good a clinical term for her current state of mind as any. Though it was not as if all the joy was gone from her life. Their sitter came over to watch the children for date nights, and now they were old enough to sleep through the night, she got more rest, even if the twins insisted on waking her and her husband up early in the morning. She and Dave were able to go out on dates, short ones, but she enjoyed them immensely. In the secrecy of their bedroom, she felt joy and peace and all that was supposed to come from her life.

Then she would emerge from her safe little cocoon and everything would be different. No longer perfect or thrilling. It simply was.

"Do you ever want children?" Amy abruptly asked, knowing it was a personal question.

"Someday," Ann said, "Why?"

Amy sighed. The inner demons in her head plagued her, pleaded with her to be acknowledged and discussed. It was not the type of conversation to be held over a phone call, and so Penny and Bernadette were out. Nor was it something she wanted to discuss with Dave. If she brought up the subject, she worried he would think less of her and she could not bear that. Not when he was one of the greatest sources of light in her life.

"A couple of years ago, I wanted children. For a long time I thought I'd eventually want them, and then suddenly it hit me. I had to have children now. I was lonely and the only way for me to be happy was to have a family."

"You have a family now," Ann observed. Amy long ago told her friend how she and Dave met, and the rapidness with which they married and started their family. At the time, everything felt right. It no longer was.

"I was really happy for a time, but I'm not anymore," Amy said, hating to admit it aloud and without cover but needing to. She needed to talk. Frankness was built into her personality. She simply could not help it.

"My mother told me that girls should be pretty and get married and start families and I went into neuroscience. She wanted me to date and I hated it. Then I got into a long term relationship, and then it wasn't enough anymore so I ended it. I met Dave almost right away and he wanted the same things I did."

"You're worried you rushed into things," Ann guessed.

That caused Amy to laugh. "No," she protested, "I'm glad I married Dave. It was the right decision and I'm grateful for him, but now, our family isn't enough for me anymore. My career isn't enough for me anymore. Something is wrong and I don't know what it is," Amy said.

A genius, she was used to knowing everything. Two steps ahead of everyone else when it came to both her personal and professional lives, it was disorienting to no longer see her next step, her next move, where she aimed to be at in the future. By all accounts she at long last had all she wanted, and with nothing to strive for, she seemed to be falling apart.

"I don't know how to help you," Ann said, and they both felt the irony of being neurobiologists unable to get a glimpse inside of Amy's brain. "We could stick some electrodes on you and try to figure it out," Ann suggested.

Amy laughed and the mood was lightened. Were there positions reversed, that would have been Amy's first suggestion as well.

Whatever she was feeling was made worse by Beth's rapid deterioration. The medications she was on to help her retain her memory and cognitive abilities no longer worked. More often than not, every day when Amy got home she was either treated to the interrogation of "Who are you and why are you in my house?" or an endless stream of baby names.

On the days Dave got home before her, he would sit Beth down and explain everything to her. The strange woman in her house was his wife and the toddlers their children. He patiently told her that he was her son, and that his middle name was Isaac. He explained that her memory was failing because she had Alzheimers, and each time she digested the information and expressed her pleasure in meeting Amy or felt sorrow that she had no recollection of her son's childhood, if she choose to believe him at all. The days Dave was not home first, Amy tired hard to explain everything to her mother-in-law but without the bond of trust, she made little headway.

Frustrating though it was to repeat the same conversation over and over again, each time disguising boredom with patience, it became worse as the number of stories Beth told dwindled.

Taking care of Beth was her idea and the kind hearted person that she was, she did not regret it. That, however, did not stop the resentment from growing.

"What can I do to make you happy?" Dave shouted at her one night, frustrated and exasperated with her continual stream of snark and impatience towards him. All the frustrations she felt towards Beth and her lack of contentment in general she hid from her mother-in-law, children, and for the most part, Ann, only releasing her emotions onto Dave.

"I'm fucking sick and tired of you moping about all the time so what can I do?"

Amy was startled as her very gentle husband raised his voice. Married almost five years and it was the first time she ever heard him yell. It was the first time they fought. Really fought. Not just some small, domestic disagreement.

"I'm sorry, Dave. I don't know," Amy said, startled out of her bad mood.

"Damn it, Amy, don't lie to me. Tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it."

Barely able to stomach the cursing and the anger, she fled the room.

"Who are you?" Beth asked upon seeing Amy. Looking between Dave, who followed her, and her mother-in-law who could not even remember her name, she felt trapped, a bird in a gilded cage.

She wanted out. Out was the only way to be happy again yet the cage was of her own construction and she did not want to leave. To leave everything behind would be infinitely worse. There was not a single thing that would make her want to leave her husband and children, even if familial obligation hung heavier on her shoulders than it should. Life wasn't fair. She knew that. One small glimmer of light was that she had not had to talk to her mother in months, a fact that gave her a great deal of relief in her otherwise monotonous world.

"I don't know what's wrong, all right," she raised her voice as she spoke back to him. "I don't know why I'm unhappy. Believe me, I've tried to figure it out." Her tone was bitter and full of resentment. "But damned if I know."

"Why are you in my house? Dave, why is this woman in my house?"

It was one of those days.

Amy kept herself from glaring at Beth but only just. "I'm his wife," she snapped out, not in the right frame of mind to gently talk to the woman as was more beneficial.

"Amy, please, you know you shouldn't take that tone of voice with her," Dave said.

Although she knew he was right, she felt angry at him for the correction. She did not like to be wrong and, so rarely was she incorrect, with her emotions in turmoil she was ill-prepared to handle the correction well.

"I know. There are a lot of things I'm not supposed to do and I don't care anymore."

The hurt on Dave's face hurt her as well. "I'm sorry," she said, "I really am. I didn't mean to snap."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," Dave apologized as well.

A part of her heart melted. Here she was entirely in the wrong and instigating an argument for no apparent purpose and yet he shouldered the blame.

She settled Beth down into her favorite arm chair with a photo album and guided Dave out of the room so they could talk privately.

"I really wish I knew what is wrong with me," Amy said, "I've tried everything. Self diagnostics. Exams. Ann's been helping me. Nothing seems to work."

Though reconciled with Dave, there remained a lingering tension between them, one Cassie and Felix were incredibly sensitive to.

Amy redoubled her efforts to assure her children that she and Dave were just fine. That they loved each other and their children and they were a happy, perfect little family and from the outside, she was sure she appeared that way.

The first bit of enlightenment came when she managed a private conversation with Bernadette.

"You look unhappy," Amy observed, hoping her own unhappiness was concealed better than Bernadette's.

"You know how I said I never wanted to have children," Bernadette said.

Of course Amy remembered. Bernadette was very vocal in her dislike of children and her disinclination to ever have a child of her own. Even with Raj and Stuart's continued help, Bernadette was still left with a disproportionate amount of work, doubled when one considered Howard as helpless as a second young child.

"We didn't actually mean to have Halley."

"That's not surprising. Roughly half of all pregnancies in the States are unplanned," Amy said.

"Maybe I'm a horrible person for saying this, but sometimes I wish we hadn't."

And there it was out in the open. That regret. No. Not regret exactly. But that desire for more. For life to be different. The bitter disappointment that what one is told their entire life will give them fulfillment does the exact opposite. The ultimate lie.

"You're right. That is horrible," Amy said. As much as she understood Bernadette's plight, she did not regret her children for a second. They were wanted. And while Bernadette wanted her child as well, it was a different kind of want than her own, one built of societal expectations and her husband's cajoling, and perhaps a bit of momentary boredom after a work project ended, than a genuine, intrinsic desire.

"And Howie," Bernadette said. She bit off her complaint but Amy heard it all the same.

Eager to hear validation that her marriage was not the only one that appeared to be deteriorating, she asked, "What did Howard do?"

"He still doesn't help out around the house. I can't be a mother to him too anymore."

"I see," Amy said, though she didn't. She did not know how she would cope if Dave refused to help out. If anything, he took on a greater portion of the housework. He cooked dinner for them most nights, spent an equal amount of time taking the twins to and from daycare, cleaning up after them, and helping them learn. He did a lot for her too. He gave her massages without needing prompting and he ensured she never wanted for physical affection even when she did not know she needed the comfort of human touch.

"I'm pregnant again," Bernadette said at last.

"Help me out here. Am I supposed to congratulate you or not?"

"Go ahead. Congratulate me."

Amy did. They talked for a while longer, and once they were done she felt a bit more at peace.

For her birthday, Ann gave her the greatest present she could possibly imagine.

"I can't accept that," Amy said after hearing about it.

"I insist," Ann said. "Amy, you're stressed out and you need a break. Don't worry about me."

The twins were four, past the most troublesome and needy stage of their life. Beth, however, was markedly worse. Amy was not sure how well Ann would do dealing with her if she followed through on her proposal to watch Amy's family so she and Dave could go away on a long weekend together.

"It's too much to ask of you," Amy argued.

"You're not asking. It's your birthday present," Ann said. "I couldn't think of anything to buy you and so I thought, what does Amy need most? A holiday. Go take your vacation."

When she told Dave about Ann's offer, Dave enthusiastically agreed. The booked a hotel in Dublin for the upcoming bank holiday and, after leaving Ann with a lot of instructions, were on their way.

"This is really nice," Amy said, looking out over the cliffs of Moher. She could taste the salty sea air on her lips and the breeze chilled her to the bone, yet the view was green and beautiful and she and Dave were alone. Away from home, her troubles slid away. Out of sight out of mind. She would have to give that idiom further consideration.

"I love you," Dave said.

"I love you too."

When was the last time they said they loved each other? Far too long in Amy's opinion. Those three words, though short and simple, brightened her entire outlook on life.

They went out to a pub, an activity the two of them rarely did together as one of them usually stayed at home to look after Beth and the twins, but they were on holiday and it felt right.

"It's nice having you all to myself again," Amy observed as they strolled through the park. The leisurely pace was a nice respite from every day stressors.

"It is," Dave agreed. They both thought that the weekend could not be long enough.

"Sometimes I wonder if we jumped into everything too early," Amy admitted. Unused to making mistakes, she did not want to embarrass herself yet neither did she want to keep secrets from him. She much preferred honesty to lies.

"You do?" Dave sounded genuinely surprised.

"I do. Don't you ever wonder what would be different if we'd had more time to ourselves?"

"I didn't. But now I'm trying to imagine our life any other way and I can't. I like what we have together," Dave said.

He was right, she knew. She would not want her life to be any other way either. Even if she wasn't happy she was content. Even if there wasn't passion there was a deeply abiding, all consuming love. Life could never be perfect but it almost was.

She would chase away her inner demons and time alone with Dave helped speed up the fight.

Once they got back from their long weekend Amy thanked Ann profusely.

Another item for the plus side, she had her first real social activity with her coworkers.

"Please, Amy, say you'll come tonight. We could really use you on our team," Ann begged.

"Umm," Amy said. While she was not on unfriendly terms with her coworkers, she was not on friendly terms either, with the exception of Ann. "I don't know. I was going to cook dinner tonight."

Ann raised her eyebrow at her lame excuse. "Really?"

"Dave cooked last night so tonight is my turn and . . ."

"Enough of that. The two of us have gone out for pub quizzes every Monday for months. I know you don't have anything planned."

Amy sighed. She was not a good liar and Ann quickly caught her out.

"Fine. I just thought it might be a bit uncomfortable if I came."

"Why?"

"Everyone is faultlessly polite, but I have the sense I'm not exactly wanted."

Ann laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. This particular pub quiz is on America. We could really use you."

"You're not going to let this go until I agree," Amy said, inwardly wishing she and Ann would just go somewhere by themselves as they normally did on Monday nights. But, when one of her coworkers came up with the scheme, it seemed Ann was determined to involve her in the neuroscience department's social function.

"No I'm not," Ann said.

Amy knew when she was beat. "Alright. I'll be on the team."

"Great."

And that was that. Once the team was assembled at the pub, Ann bought the first round of drinks. Amy fought not to grimace at the beer chosen, but she sipped it without complaint, as expected. The second round was on her, and at that time, the quiz started.

They wrote their team name, Les Quizerables, on the first piece of paper.

"What is the largest denomination of a US dollar banknote?"

Amy scribbled 100 on the paper as fast as she could, and put it in the basket. Thus the game began.

Some of the questions were ridiculously easy for her. The name of the state where Harvard is located, the number of colonies that declared independence in 1776, the mountain where the Hollywood Sign is located, and the river running through the Grand Canyon, to name a few. Some took a bit more thought, and it became progressively harder once they started into their third round of beer, and as her English coworkers started to drink her under the table, she was not the first one to figure out the number of states that started with the word 'new' or to name the state with the longest coastline. Even through her fuzzy brain, she still knew things her coworkers did not, like the state capital of Louisiana and the number of stars on the American flag during World War II. Maybe she did not answer every question, but she accredited their first place victory to herself.

She bought the fourth round of drinks, mainly to ensure she got something less alcoholic for herself. Maybe they were not destined to be her close friends, but she was glad Ann forced her to come. It was, at the very least, a bonding experience, and she found herself talking more with her coworkers than she had before.

Amy did not realize how much she missed having adult conversations sometimes.

The pub quiz night with the coworkers was a one off, for which Amy was relieved, and she and Ann resumed their solo excursions.

Things started looking up after that. Felix wanted to play the violin so she and Dave bought him an instrument and found a teacher. He excelled at playing, though she could not entice him to play the harp. As much time as he spent with his violin, she still had to tune it every day for him. Her one and only attempt to teach him to tune the violin himself resulted in a snapped A string, a bleeding finger, and much crying. She gave up after that, preferring to avoid the blood and crying. The scratchiness and high pitched squeals of the violin quieted down, though they by no means disappeared, and everyone's ears suffered for it. After a couple months playing the violin, Felix begged his parents for piano lessons as well.

With Beth's piano already taking up space in the house, Amy had it tuned and found a piano teacher as well. With formal training it did not take Felix long to surpass her self-taught harp skills, though she would often accompany him as it was a relaxing way for mother and son to spend time together.

Cassie excelled once school started. Already having learned a lot of math from her dad and being well versed in English from her first words, she advanced a full level ahead. Felix, hating to be left behind, struggled to keep up but the incentive to stay close to his twin sister won out over any difficulties he felt at the advanced pace. And, Amy suspected, much of their time in daycare after school and before either she or Dave could pick them up was spent with Cassie teaching Felix everything she knew. That was what she surmised from the reports at the daycare that Felix and Cassie kept mainly to themselves in a an isolated corner with books.

Dave then introduced Cassie to physics. She loved it straight away. Cassie begged Amy to take her to the Greenwich observatory and they made the trek across town to get there. All the while Cassie told her fun facts about the prime meridian and the stars. It was clear Cassie took after her father in the way she was able to ramble for a seemingly endless amount of time.

Who Felix took after more she could only guess at. While she played the harp well enough, Felix excelled at his two instruments. Dave could not play or sing at all. Where Felix's talent came from Amy did not know. Much to her surprise, she took him first to see a musical on West End, and then to the symphony and the ballet, and regardless of the performance, he could watch it straight through without fidgeting once. He was entranced by the performers on stage, regardless of the medium, and did not become bored and obnoxious as the other young children she saw did. As Cassie did the one time Amy took her along as well.

When Amy and Dave met with the teachers at parent teacher conference, they were surprised to learn that their children were worryingly antisocial. Neither Cassie nor Felix befriended the other children, but that was in part due to the one year age difference between them and their much older classmates, and while they were thick as thieves, looking out for each other against bullies and the like, they did not get along well with the other children.

Amy could only see that as a personal failing. She tried hard to be different from her mother, to raise her children with love and affection and a desire to be wanted, an ability to open up enough to make friends. She long wondered if she had a different upbringing if she would have had friends long before Penny and Bernadette rather than going through her entire childhood and young adult years completely alone.

Perhaps the failing was her or perhaps it was genetic, but the inability of her children to make friends worried her as well. She wanted better for them than what she experienced.

When she tried to get Cassie and Felix to invite people over and hold a birthday party for them, they refused. There was no one they wanted to invite.

"I don't want to, mummy. Please don't make me," Felix begged.

The pathetic tone of his voice made her pause. It sounded a lot like her as a child when her mother inevitably got to her.

Not one to be like her mother, she ceased her insistence on the twins making friends apart from each other, but that did not stop her worry over the subject.

"What did we do wrong?" Amy asked Dave.

"I don't know, love. I don't know." He hugged her and some of her stress faded away, but it was not enough for her to really relax.

"Mummy," Cassie said to her one day.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why do you want me to make friends?"

Amy did not take long to consider her answer. "It's because I never had friends as a child. I was lonely and I don't want the same for you."

"But I'm not lonely. I have Felix," Cassie said.

Her daughter had a point. She did have another child, a privilege Amy did not have growing up an only child. "You don't want any more friends?" Amy asked, curious.

"No. I couldn't boss them around like I can Felix."

Amy laughed. "You're not bossy," she corrected, "You're independent."

"Yes. I'm independent." Cassie agreed.

"And you're smart," Amy said.

"Obviously," Cassie agreed. And that was enough for her. She still worried, to be sure, but not as much.

When winter hit, she took the children ice skating, and while they spent most of their time falling down, as did Dave, she emerged the only victor without bruises.

A temporary peace descended over them. While difficult to deal with, she had a renewed patience when it came to Beth. Her relationship with Dave was more open than it was before. The children were growing up too quickly and she no longer felt the ennui that previously consumed her.

The vibrancy returned to her life and the rain no longer bothered her quite so much. For better or for worse, her Californian accent not withstanding, she could call herself a Londoner. The decision to move was no longer something she regretted but something to be proud of. She wondered just when that switch had happened. As much as she'd struggled to adapt in the early years, she now felt settled in London.

As familiarity breeds carelessness, she became so engrossed in her research she did not notice the time nor that dinner long ago came and went. By the time she finally felt tired enough continuing to work would be pointless, she checked the clock. It was well past midnight and the tube no longer running.

She debated the merits of springing for an Uber or calling and waking Dave up to come get her, or even just falling asleep in the chair in her lab. Too old to sleep upright any longer, she eventually settled on taking the night bus, unwilling to wake Dave up that late at night or to pay unnecessarily for transport. If Cassie and Felix kept progressing rapidly in their schooling, she and Dave would not have the expected eighteen years to save up to pay for their university, regardless of whether they stayed in England or returned to America.

For a Tuesday evening it was still crowded outside as she waited for the bus. She forced herself to stay awake and alert so as not to miss her stop, and by the time she got off, she still had a short trek back to the house.

Not five minutes later she noticed a presence walking about twenty paces behind her. She hurried her pace and the footsteps sped up as well. She discretely glanced over her shoulder and saw a hooded figure following her. She shivered, partly from the chill and partly for nerves.

Perhaps she was overreacting and she was not defenseless, and accustomed years later to walking alone at night without mace in her hand, she knew something was wrong. She did not believe in intuition but that night, she would amend her opinion.

Subtly, she called Dave but she did not talk on her phone, only hoping the ringing woke him up. She let herself into the house, the mysterious figure rapidly coming closer.

She shrieked and slammed the door behind her.

His hair tousled from sleep, Dave threw on his glasses and ran downstairs. "Amy? What's wrong? What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"Someone was following me," she said, her words coming out in pants.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. She was clearly okay.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I got lost in my work and when I was walking home from the bus stop, there was a man following me. I didn't really get a good look at his face, but it was creepy."

"You're alright now," Dave soothed her.

"He followed me straight to the door," Amy said.

"I want you to promise me something."

"Hmm," she said nonchalantly.

"Next time you stay late at work, get an Uber."

"I will," she agreed.

Once her tremors subsided, Dave pulled back the curtains on the window and looked out. "Whoever was following you is gone now. You're safe," he soothed her.

They went to bed together, but as she lay on her side facing the door, she could not help but worry that someone would walk in.

 _You're being ridiculous_ she scolded herself internally _you don't believe in superstitious nonsense and you're safely home. Now go to sleep._

No matter what she told herself, she did not fall asleep until Dave, noticing her inability to lay still, wrapped his arms around her. She turned her face into his chest, the comforting smell soothing and relaxing her.

Throughout the night he did not let go of her, and when she woke up later that morning she knew his arm must be killing him from her laying atop it all night.

"I'm sorry. I was a bit ridiculous," Amy said and pulled away to begin her morning ablutions before Cassie and Felix woke up and wreaked havoc on her peace.

"No you weren't," Dave assured her.

Amy did not believe him for a second. She acted more like a scared child than a fully grown, supposedly logical adult. Say what he wanted to, she knew Dave to be wrong on that score.

Towards the end of the year Amy was surprised but not shocked to see a familiar name amongst the Nobel Laureates. Having not thought about him in years, she could not deny that he deserved the prize.

Dr Sheldon Cooper would finally have his life's goal. Briefly, she wondered how he felt about it. No doubt ecstatic. He knew what he wanted and rejoiced in his victory.

She started a new email message, distantly wondering if he changed his email at all in the last seven years and then brushed it aside. Sheldon did not suffer change.

 _Dear Sheldon,_

 _Congratulations on winning the Nobel Prize in Physics. You of all people deserve it._

After that she stopped. She needed to say more and yet she shot down anything she could think of. Should she tell him she was proud of him? They no longer had that type of relationship where she could. She knew nothing about him or his life anymore as Penny and Bernadette intentionally left all mentions of him out of their Skype conversations. For all she knew, they no longer saw Sheldon anymore either. Should she compliment his research? Applaud his accomplishment? Nothing seemed right and yet she could not bring herself to send an email that short.

He had everything he wanted out of life as did she and yet she did not feel happy for either of them. She was tired.

Should she wish him a happy life? She had no way to know if he was happy or not. He could be married for all she knew. He could still be alone. Whatever the truth, she could not bring herself to enquire nor did she want to laud her life over him. They failed in a romantic relationship and they failed at being friends. The fault laid mostly on her. She cut him off from her life because she needed it, and in retrospect, running away to London was a large part of that even if there were external factors influencing her decision. The distance made the separation, mentally and physically, much, much easier.

"Amy," Dave said, his voice distraught.

She faced him. His eyes were red and filled with tears. She gasped. Something was wrong. She closed out of the email draft without sending it. "What happened?" she asked, filled with fear for the news he was about to give her.

"Mum . . . mum . . . is dead."


	52. Chapter 52

Amy was quiet when she picked the children up from their after school daycare. She dreaded when they arrived home and she and Dave would have to tell them about Beth. If Felix and Cassie noticed her somber mood, they did not act like it.

"Can I press the button now mummy?" Felix asked eagerly.

Amy pursed her lips, just wanting the bus ride to be over. With the traffic outside, they would be on the bus for a while yet, longer than most days. Fate was laughing at her, she suspected.

"Not yet. We have a few more stops to go."

"I want to press the button. Please pretty please," Cassie begged.

Amy wanted to roll her eyes. She would think them to be accustomed to the bus by now, and yet pressing the stop button still seemed a novelty to them. On another day, she would likely be amused, or simply patient. As it was, the pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from snapping.

"Not yet," she repeated. "Sit back down." Cassie was already preparing to stand up on the seat to reach over Felix to the button.

"But—"

"—Sit down," Amy snapped.

Shocked at her harsh tone of voice, Cassie sat down and became silent, shocked.

Amy sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped," she said, but the damage was already done. Both Cassie and Felix eyed her warily.

As they approached their stop, she said, "Come on. This is our stop."

"I want to push the button," Felix said, though less enthusiastically than before.

"Someone else already pressed the button," Amy said.

Felix did not fight with her as she would have expected, and that alone said volumes about her mood.

They walked the short distance back to the house and Amy let them in. Dave was talking on the phone when they entered, so she helped the children with their after school snack as he finished his conversation.

"Funeral arrangements?" she asked once he hung up.

"Yes."

His tears for earlier were gone, and he replaced them with calm stoicism. She could not tell what he was feeling. It had been years since she saw him that reserved around her. Not since they were first dating in fact. It unsettled her.

Felix finished his snack and immediately ran over to the piano. She could hear the opening notes of Solfeggietto sounding already.

"Cassie, love, daddy and I have something to tell you. Can you please go sit on the couch?"

"But I have homework," Cassie protested.

"Please," Amy said, nearing her wits end. She couldn't do it. She couldn't.

Her children would be hurt and she wanted to protect them from it yet she couldn't. They would being to ask questions, and soon.

"But Felix gets to play the piano," Cassie argued.

"Please go sit on the couch, love," Amy repeated, looking helplessly at Dave. He stared straight back at her yet did not become involved.

She sent him a pleading look, and when he finally looked back at her, she nodded her head towards Cassie.

"Come on, love. Do as your mum says," Dave finally said, holding out his hand for Cassie to take. She looked at it suspiciously, but eventually decided to go along with him. Thank goodness for small mercies.

Amy made her way to the piano. Resting her hand on Felix's shoulder, she said, "I need you to stop playing for a minute, love. Your dad and I have something we need to tell you."

Rather than listen to her, his fingers sped up over the keys, and she could hear the additional mistakes he made and the increase in speed.

"Felix, now," she said.

"I need to finish this song," he said, and as he spoke, the notes became more jumbled until half of them were wrong.

His fingers faltered and he stopped, looked at the keys, and moved his fingers back to their position. "Please let me finish."

Amy sighed. "Sorry, love. You can finish later if you want. If you come with me now, I'll play a duet with you later." The promise of a duet was enough to sway him, though she felt in no mood to tune and play her harp at the moment. The bribe worked.

"What's going on?" Felix asked when he saw Dave and Cassie already gathered. He sat on Dave's other side and looked expectantly at her. Cassie, too, focused her attention on Amy, and she cleared her throat, uncertain how to begin.

"Your nana. . ." she started, and then trailed off, uncertain how to continue and looked to Dave for help. He stared at her blankly, and she could see the stress and pain and something else, all wrapped up into one.

"Your nana is gone," she finally said.

"Gone where?" Cassie asked.

"She . . . she died," Amy said at last.

"No!" Felix immediately said as understanding dawned on him. "Nana is coming back. She has to."

"Yes," Cassie echoed.

Still Dave remained silent.

"Nana isn't coming back," Amy said. "I'm so sorry, but nana is gone."

"You're wrong," Cassie argued.

"I'm so sorry," Amy repeated, a broken record.

She watched as understanding dawned over the two children, and she could see the sadness, but she could also see a lack of understanding. They didn't cry. They didn't even look close to tears, for which she was grateful. Cassie and Felix remained in a stunned disbelief.

That was, until the funeral. During the service, as Dave got up to speak, she sat in the front row with the children on either side.

Dave told a story about his mother from when he was a child. His face remained calm, though she could hear the turmoil in his words. It made her tear up.

"Why are you crying?" Felix asked, confused.

"Hush. Your dad is speaking," Amy said.

"Don't cry, mummy," Cassie said, and hugged her. "I'll make it better."

Amy held Cassie to her, even as the younger child understood what was going on but did not fully grasp it. There was a small measure of comfort.

Felix joined in not much later, and she pulled him onto her lap. He buried his face in her shoulder, no longer able to look at the service. She stroked his back and calmed him as much as she could, but in the end, there was only so much she could do.

Dave finished speaking and sat down off to the side, still a part of the ceremony.

Cassie didn't cry through the entire service, but as they walked out of the small chapel in the countryside, Cassie paused in the entryway, and then she started crying.

"Nana's gone," Cassie sobbed, as the meaning of death hit her fully. "Nana's gone," she sobbed.

"I know, love. I know," Amy soothed her, hugging Cassie close to her as well. She felt like crying, but for the sake of her family, she forced herself to be strong. It would not do for her to fall apart as well. She couldn't.

Death was inevitable. They knew it all along. Yet the immediacy of the funeral was a harsh contrast to a theoretical and intangible future.

Dave held her hand in a vice like grip as they watched the coffin be lowered into the ground, and she periodically squeezed his hand to reassure him she was there, in whatever form he needed. He did not let go, and his grip was so strong she knew there would be bruises later. She did not protest or attempt to pull away. Someone had to keep him from falling apart, and that someone was her.

They rented out a hall for after the burial, and invited the family members. It was the first time Amy met many of Dave's family, not having had the opportunity to speak to them before the service, and under the circumstances, she felt awkward, an intruder into a family she both knew very well and didn't know at all.

The children were the first to stop being sorrowful, but with food and drinks, the atmosphere calmed. The adults stopped crying and started talking. Dave's cousins and aunt and uncle were reserved, and they only got to a brief discussion about their professions.

By the time they left, Dave seemed somewhat calmed. Cassie and Felix, having spent the last couple of hours playing, were entirely recovered. She envied them for that. If only a bit of playfulness could have such a great effect on her and her husband.

In bed that night, she was worried about his silence as he did not even kiss her goodnight.

"Is it wrong of me to feel relieved?"

Amy turned to face her husband though she could not make much out in the dark bedroom.

"No. It's not," she said, knowing what he was talking about without having to be told explicitly.

"It just feels wrong, you know. She's my mum. I should be upset or sad or angry or something . . . but I'm just relieved she doesn't have to suffer anymore and . . . and that we don't have to take care of her anymore."

"It wasn't her fault," Amy tried to sooth him, recognizing the guilt for what it was. If she was being honest, a part of her was relieved at Beth's passing as well, though having never known the woman in her prime, Amy also knew she was far less attached to the woman than her husband and had less of a reason to feel guilty.

"You never got a chance to know her before. She was . . . It's terrible of me to be glad that she's gone." She heard the hesitancy as he spoke, unable to fully convey what he felt.

Amy scooted closer to him until she could feel the steady thump of his heart against her cheek. "I would have liked to know her then, but she had a long life. You don't have to feel guilty about being relieved."

"You haven't visited your parents since we moved here."

She did not like when conversations abruptly changed to avoid difficult topics, and this time it was different, especially when the new topic was incredibly uncomfortable for her.

"We haven't been able to leave."

She wasn't sorry, per say. She wasn't close to either of her parents and a small part of her relished the distance. She was especially glad neither of her parents came for Beth's funeral. The distance was comforting.

"We could go visit them now," Dave suggested.

Amy was glad for the darkness as she flinched at the thought. She'd chosen to go to college far away from home, and then to graduate school far away, for one reason: to get as far away as possible from her parent's house and away from her mother's overbearing influence. Now she no longer had her own residence in California, they would either be forced to stay at a hotel or with her parents. Her mother would insist they not go to a hotel when they could stay with family, so bunk with the devil they would.

"I'm not sure that's a great idea," she said. She did not want to go and be stuck in a house where her mother told her to wear more makeup and loose weight to hold onto her husband so he would not leave her for a younger, more attractive woman and leave their children fatherless. Heaven forbid she ever find a new man. After all, why couldn't she be prettier and funnier and less bookish? She could not tolerate putting up with her mother's endless barrage of insults. Not without a place to escape to.

"You want to avoid your parents."

"That's not true," Amy automatically protested knowing full well that was the reason.

"Then why is it a bad idea?"

"The kids have school and it's a long flight. It would be such a disruption to their education and they're upset right now. I don't think a vacation is what they want."

"Felix and Cassie are upset, but I think meeting their grandparents would be good for them. We can wait a couple months until their summer break."

"It's an expensive flight," Amy tried to divert him.

"We have the money." That was true. Beth had the house paid off in full, which meant they were only responsible for the upkeep. They'd been so busy taking care of Beth the last couple of years they hadn't gone on vacation or spent much time eating out, meaning they'd saved a considerable sum despite living in London.

"I just don't think it's a good idea right now," she said. They couldn't go to California to visit her parents. They just couldn't.

"Then give me one good reason why we can't go." Dave was beginning to sound upset, an emotion she rarely associated with her gentle husband.

"The twins—" she started and was interrupted.

"—Would love to go and meet their grandparents. Especially now. Why don't you want to go, Amy?"

"I just don't want to listen to my mother tell me all my life choices are a mistake and I should be prettier and become a housewife, alright. Will you just leave it alone already."

He needed to stop. His insistence was getting on her nerves. She did not want to go to California. End of story. He should listen to her and drop it already.

"No, Amy, I think we need to talk about this. You can't avoid your parents forever and our children should know their grandparents."

"I don't want to fight with you, but we're not going," she said firmly. On this issue she wasn't willing to budge or compromise in the slightest.

"I don't want to fight either," Dave said, "but will you please at least think about visiting?"

"I don't need to think. We're not going."

"Be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable. Stop pressuring me."

She turned so her back was to him. Unbidden, she felt moisture collecting in her eyes. _Don't cry. Don't cry_. She chanted internally, willing the wetness away. She was tired and frustrated and she hated being pushed. That was it. Not the fact that she knew deep down he was right and a visit to her parents was long overdue, no matter how little she wanted to go.

"Amy," Dave tried again but she was sick and tired of his badgering.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Goodnight."

"But—"

"—I said goodnight," she interrupted him and squeezed her eyes shut. If only she could fall asleep and get some relief. She hated fighting yet on this issue she would not give in.

They barely spoke to each other at all the next morning. Luckily for her Felix dropped his bowl of cereal, creating a mess of milk and broken glass necessitating intensive clean up that allowed her to avoid speaking to Dave. He left for work and she dropped the children off at school before heading into her lab.

She resisted the urge to text him updates about her day as she normally would. She was still mad at him after all. When it appeared like her experiment was going to run late, she sent him a text asking him to pick the children up from after school daycare. Once he confirmed, she felt a bit hollow. Perfunctory.

Rather than discuss their argument and settle it, they avoided each other. Even though she was angry at him for pushing her when she was not ready, she also hated the concise, emotionless discourse driven by necessity. She missed him, a strange notion given she saw him that morning.

She started prepping brain slices for observation under the confocal microscope, delicate work that distracted her from the fight. Down time came when she had to wait an hour for the dye to set before removing it. As she completed the final washes with phosphate-buffered saline, her mind was distracted by the menial but delicate task once more.

There was a text from Dave. The children were fed and asleep and he wanted to know if she was alright.

She checked the clock. 10:00pm. She felt a bit guilty not telling him she was going to be quite a bit late, but she also had not expected to stay at her lab that long either. Her avoidance strategy worked better than she anticipated. She sent him a brief text letting him know she wouldn't be home for at least another two hours.

Then she waited. There was more work she could do, but now she knew how late it was she felt the exhaustion creeping up on her. Whatever she started on now she would inevitably do less than perfectly and only perfection was acceptable when it came to her work.

Without knowing how it happened she opened Skype and automatically contacted Penny.

"It's too early for this," Penny complained. Amy smiled at her exhausted bestie. With the time difference she knew it was early in the morning for Penny.

"Sorry to wake you up. I wanted to talk."

"What's wrong?" Penny's love of gossip woke her up quickly. To Amy's keen eye she appeared fully alert in only a few seconds.

"Dave and I fought last night. He thinks we should visit my parents."

"You don't want to?"

"You've met my mother. What do you think?"

She recalled the one and only time Penny and her mother met each other and it was at her wedding. Needless to say, her mother was too high maintenance for even her easy going best friend to put up with, and that was saying a lot. Penny was practically a goddess; it should be impossible not to get along with her.

"Point taken. What if you stayed with Leonard and me. We have a house and plenty of room. I'd love to see your children again."

That prospect was attractive. She still wanted to run away screaming rather than see her parents after years of blissful separation broken only by intermittent Skype calls. But she did have to admit she desperately missed her best friend. Communication via mail and technology simply wasn't the same as being in the room together. Besides, the last time Penny saw Cassie and Felix they were infants. She did want her children to know and love their 'Aunt' and godmother Penny as much as she did even if she was more ambivalent about them meeting their grandparents.

"And it wouldn't be too much trouble? The kids can be a handful."

"Nah." Penny waved her hand around to show she really did not care. "There's plenty of room and we want to see you again. Leonard and Howard can babysit the kids and you, me, and Bernadette can have girls night again. Just like old times."

"I would like that," Amy admitted, the prospect of going to California seeming much less onerous now. She missed girls night and would be eager to partake in another one. She had Ann now, but going out with her simply wasn't the same. She, Penny, and Bernadette, her first real friends; still a close friend but a very different friendship.

She would need to discuss the arrangements with Dave, but if the stayed with Penny and Leonard, she just might be willing to spend a dinner with her parents.

She dearly wanted to see her friends again.

That was how, exactly two months later, her family boarded the plane to LAX.

"When will we be in America?" Felix asked.

Since they told the children they were going to California, America was all they could speak about, an exciting trip to a new country. They might have been born in California, but they held no memories of the country.

"We haven't taken off yet," Dave tried to explain but his answer was met by numerous other questions. How much longer? Did the plane have good movies? Could they have a snack?

Eventually, Dave gave up and shot Amy a look that said your turn now.

You started it she said back to him wordlessly and settled Felix down into the seat beside her, taking the aisle seat herself.

The flight was long and tiring. Between Felix or Cassie needing something every ten minutes and the unpleasantness of prolonged periods on a plane in general, she got no sleep. Twelve hours later when they touched down into LAX, she could not have been more relieved. Trouble came as they waited at baggage claim. Cassie and Felix began squealing and pointing.

"Look! It's a cowboy. It's a real cowboy with boots and a hat and everything!"

Amy looked up to see the source of the commotion. There, as the children said, was an actual cowboy. Hardly surprising but to them it was a novelty.

"Don't point. It's rude," she admonished.

"But mum," Felix protested and pointed to the unsuspecting man again, "It's a cowboy."

"Dave." She turned to him for back up.

"Your mother's right. It's rude to point." However, that did not stop either child from pointing and eventually Amy gave up. After staying awake the entire flight, they would be exhausted and whining soon enough.

Once they finally made it to the arrivals area, Dave went in search of the rental car place to get their reservation while Amy sat with the luggage and the kids.

This was why they did not travel and go on vacation. It was simply too tiring.

She gathered the children and luggage and joined Dave at the last minute to sign the rental agreement as a driver and listen to the instructions. Then they were on their way to the car.

The traffic was, compared to central London, not as onerous as she remembered and they made good time to the address in Pasadena that Penny sent her. It was certainly a shorter drive than their transport form their London home to LHR.

The house looked tidy from the outside, shocking for anything Penny owned but not as shocking coming from Leonard.

They did not have a chance to ring the doorbell before Penny flung open the door and attacked her. Or, more accurately, enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug.

"I can't believe you're actually here. Come in." Amy was pulled into the house and Dave and the children followed her. Penny gave a less enthusiastic greeting to Dave that was still no less heartfelt before turning to her two primary interests: Felix and Cassie.

Hearing the commotion, Leonard emerged and greeted them as well. Knowing she and Dave had to be tired from travel, Penny sent Leonard to bring the bags in from the car while she gave their guests a tour of the house. Just like the outside, it was cleaner than Amy expected it to be, a feat whose credit belonged solely to Leonard, sloppiness being one of Penny's very few faults.

Charmingly decorated, Amy knew her best friend had good tastes.

The tour complete, Amy felt herself yawning against her will.

"Poor thing. You all must be tired. Why don't you go nap and I'll wake you up for dinner."

She really did not want to take a nap when she and Penny were finally reunited. She wanted to pop open a bottle of wine and catch up with Penny, engage in gossip and detail every aspect of their lives since they last saw each other in person, but the fatigue was rapidly gaining traction and Penny was right. Little though she might want to she needed sleep.

She and Dave went to the guest room and Penny took the children to their shared room. Amy did not envy Penny the task of getting the exhausted but still surprisingly rambunctious children to nap but she was tired and was not going to insist on the chore herself. Not when Penny volunteered.

Dinner—cooked by Leonard to the delight of everyone's palate—was fantastic. Felix took a shine to Leonard's video game collection and the two were soon thick as thieves. Dave and Cassie joined in to make an even four, leaving Amy and Penny to talk in the kitchen.

"You seem happy. Really happy. I mean, happy given everything that happened," Penny observed, not classically smart but astute all the same.

A serene smile crossed Amy's face. "I am happy. Not about having to visit my parents in three days—" that she dreaded above all else "—but in general I'm really happy. You and Leonard seem happy too." She purposefully left out the long stretch of time she was miserable. Whatever the cause, it was over now and did not need mentioning.

That time it was Penny's turn to smile.

"We are," she agreed. "We haven't told anyone else yet but we're thinking about adopting."

She felt honored to be the first one Penny told.

"That's great," she enthused.

They talked about a lot of things, including the plans Penny already made to get the entire group together. The first day was just them, but after that Penny had plans for everyone.

Home. That was the serene, comfortable warmth she felt engulfing her. Back in her home state with her family and closest friends she was well and truly home for the first time in a long while.

Life was comfortable and easy and it felt strange being back in a house that had aircon and a single faucet for hot and cold water and having access to some of her favorite foods again. Being back felt right.

Once it got later, Amy herded a reluctant Felix and Cassie away from their favorite 'Uncle' Leonard. She was thrilled they already loved her friends as much as she did but it was best to get them on a regular sleep schedule.

Six years since she last saw him when she was pregnant with the twins. Eight and a half years since she broke up with him.

No matter how many years passed she would always recognize Sheldon's bedroom. Meticulously organized, tan walls, mahogany furniture, a bookshelf displaying comic books and action figures, and sci fi posters on the wall. There could be no doubt it was his room.

She didn't care. She told herself she did not care that Sheldon had a room in Penny and Leonard's house. She loved her husband and children and she hadn't been involved in Sheldon's life in years. Not even heard gossip from her friends about Sheldon. Even when he won the Nobel Prize she heard it through the news, not from their mutual friends. It meant nothing to her that her children would be sleeping in Sheldon's room while he . . . what? Where was he?

She didn't care. The children got into their pajamas under her supervision. She didn't care. A wait while they brushed their teeth gave her time to peruse the room in more detail. She didn't care. She assumed different voices while she told them a story and kissed their foreheads goodnight.

She had no reason to care but she did. Shell shocked she found the three adults in the living room. Sitting down beside Dave on the couch, she automatically reached for his hand for comfort.

"They're staying in Sheldon's room," she said to no one in particular, her voice monotone and hollow. She did not know how to feel. What to feel. Just that she felt intensely.

"Amy," Penny started cautiously.

She was married with a family and still when it came to Sheldon, Penny felt the need to walk on eggshells around her. She did not want to be treated like a child. The truth was what she wanted.

"Why does he have a room here?"

She did not want to look at Dave's face to see what he was feeling: insecurity, hurt, jealousy, or eagerness to be in a house Sheldon lived in with the people he lived with. Best not to open that can of worms.

"We set up the room for him. We thought he could deal with us moving out if he felt like he was still a part of our lives. He doesn't know we live here yet." It was Leonard speaking but Amy's eyes remained firmly glued on Penny.

Amy squeezed Dave's hand to center herself. She'd been in Sheldon's bedroom, even if it was one he did not know of. She tucked her children into Sheldon's bed and unpacked their clothes into Sheldon's dresser. She didn't care. She shouldn't care. But she did.

"Will he . . . will he come here?" she asked and it was Dave's turn to squeeze her hand. Was he upset or eager? Not knowing was best.

"No," Penny replied, "He's with his mother in Texas."

Amy knew that mean something was wrong. Badly wrong. Sheldon only ever went to his mother when something in his life was broken and he did not know how to fix it. Even then it was Mary Cooper who came out for a few days. They were staying with Leonard and Penny for three weeks and Sheldon would be in Texas the entire time?

Nothing. That's what she was to him and he to her only it wasn't just as simple as that. At some level she wanted to know what was wrong and if she could fix it. That natural inclination sickened her, as if by caring for Sheldon she was cheating on Dave.

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "What's wrong? What happened to him?"

Dave stiffened beside her. She barely even cared that he might be upset. Something was wrong with Sheldon and she gave up any right to know years ago and yet there she was, more concerned about his welfare than what her reaction was doing to her husband.

Leonard and Penny exchanged a look trying to determine how much information to relay to her.

"Sweetie, we don't know what's wrong," Penny said. "He seemed fine when we last saw him but that was before he went to Stockholm for his Nobel Prize. After he went straight to Texas. He had us ship some of his stuff to him, but we don't know what's wrong. He hasn't contacted us much, but we are worried."

Amy mentally ran the calculations. He achieved his life goal and then went home broken to Texas, dysfunctional enough he stayed there for months when usually two days with his mother's evangelical Christian beliefs was enough to snap him out of any mood and back into the condescending scientist he was. Something was badly wrong for him to be out of sorts for so long.

Only now more was wrong than just Sheldon. She finally looked at Dave beside her once he withdrew his hand from hers. He looked . . . jealous was not something she associated with him but he was. Jealous and worried.

His ex-wife that ran off with the French pastry chef. With her evident concern about her ex she shouldn't even care about anymore he was reliving his disastrous first marriage.

She felt guilty all of a sudden. He was hurt and it was her fault because evidently she was still concerned about someone else she had not seen or had any contact with in years.

"It's getting late. Let's go to bed," she suggested.

Dave stiffly agreed, more to get her alone, she suspected, than out of a desire to actually sleep, though they desperately needed more sleep than the short nap from earlier in the day. They said goodnight to Leonard and Penny and retreated to the guest room.

She changed into her pajamas and reentered the bedroom to find Dave already in bed for the night, still sitting up and waiting for her.

She slipped onto the bed next to him and remained sitting up as well. He was angry and she waited anxiously for what he was going to say.

"Do you still love him?" Sadness and worry. She recognized it easily and it made her feel bad her reaction put him into that state.

"No," she said automatically, though she knew very well it wasn't the truth. Sheldon was her first love. A part of her would never be fully over him. He understood her in ways no one else ever had and she him. It was the other factors that kept them apart. She fell in love again. She loved Dave just as strongly as her love for Sheldon but different. It was more stable. More comfortable. Perhaps the correct word to use would be subdued. They were well suited for each other in so many ways, which in the end mattered more to her than a passion that would burn out over time.

"I mean, a little. But I love you more." She knew that that, too, was a lie. She did not love Sheldon any less than Dave despite the years. The two loves were equally strong but they were night and day difference. She choose the one that meshed with her life. The one that did not hurt her with insensitivity time and again. She made the better choice and she knew it. Marriage and children, a part of life she desperately desired that only one could give to her. She made the right choice and she did not doubt it, worried though she might be about what made Sheldon finally snap that even Mary Cooper could not get him over it right away.

"Fine," Dave said, and from his tone she knew he did not believe her. Hardly surprising when she did not believe herself, but the doubt hurt her all the same.

They fell asleep on separate sides of the bed, making no attempt to cuddle. She felt the chill in the space between them. It was all her fault. Her fault for agreeing to go to California. Her fault for thinking it would be a good idea even if they stayed with Penny and Leonard instead of her parents. Less than one full day and their life was already unraveling. She knew all along it was a bad idea to come back to California.

Amy woke up early the next morning, and rather than wake Dave up as well, she silently crept out of the room. Even Leonard was still asleep at that hour. She was tired and should not be awake but sleep was just as impossible. She made herself a coffee, taking extra care to be quiet so as not to wake anyone up.

"Mum?" a confused voice said, causing Amy to look up from the black liquid she was staring at with undue intensity.

"Good morning, Cassie," she said. "What are you doing up so early?" Stupid question really. Cassie was the earliest riser in the family, though where Cassie went Felix soon followed. Thus, only a few seconds later Felix was in the kitchen as well.

"I'm hungry," Cassie announced, and with a sigh Amy got up to see what she could make for breakfast. Not knowing her way around Penny and Leonard's kitchen and not wanting to wake them up, she found Eggo waffles in the freezer and decided that would be both easy and an exciting new treat for the children.

Once they were fed, Felix decided to continue playing video games. She and Dave would have to consider buying a console for their own house with how much Felix seemed to enjoy it. Cassie retreated back upstairs, and Amy returned to her solitary reflections. Her coffee was now cold so she heated it up in the microwave.

She took a small sip and resisted the urge to grimace at the strongly bitter flavor. What was wrong with her? She normally loved coffee. Eventually Leonard made his way downstairs, and much later in the morning Penny followed. All she managed to do was skim through the newspaper and reheat her coffee three times but never actually finished it.

She could not pinpoint the exact cause of her problem but she knew she did not feel right. Something was off. A scream from upstairs had her running in that direction.

She flew into Sheldon's room to find Cassie jumping up and down, clapping her hands in joy. She looked cluelessly between Cassie and Dave, relieved to find out the shriek was an excited one rather than a something is wrong yell, but she could not for the life of her figure out what was causing Cassie so much joy.

"Mum! Did you know that this is Dr Sheldon Cooper's bedroom? Look, here is Dr Cooper's handwriting."

Amy looked at the notebook Cassie evidently found in the room and saw that sure enough there were equations and graphical drawing in what appeared to be Sheldon's handwriting. Would nightmares never cease?

"Will Aunt Penny introduce me to Dr Cooper?"

The shocking similarity Amy saw suddenly made sense. Cassie was exactly like Dave, obsessed with theoretical physics and, much to her dismay, obsessed with Sheldon's work. Just great. Of all the physicists in the world, she was sure she could calculate exactly the chances of Cassie fixating on and idolizing Sheldon, but she did not want to. She just knew it had to be unlikely and if she believed in coincidences, this would be conclusive evidence.

"Sheldon isn't here right now."

Cassie looked disappointed at missing the chance to meet her idol, but rather than wallow in sorrow, she started flicking through the notebook as if by reading his scrawls she would become closer to the scientist she evidently idolized.

Amy looked helplessly at Dave. "I'm sorry," she mouthed quietly, and she saw Dave's expression soften.

"I know," he mouthed back at her and gestured for her to follow him out of the room. Once they were standing alone in the hallway, he raised his voice to a normal volume. "I overreacted a bit last night. I'm sorry."

Amy felt a stiffness fall away from her that she did not even realize she carried.

"And I shouldn't have gotten so worked up. I love you and I would never do anything intentionally to hurt you."

"I know," Dave agreed and he kissed her, a soft kiss but the type of kiss that made her forget she was mad and upset and worried and just feel. Relax. Let her worries seep away. He pulled back from her after awhile and she rested her head against his chest, comforted by the closeness.

"I have a question," Amy said, not sure how her question would be received but feeling a strong need to ask it all of a sudden.

"Go ahead," Dave encouraged.

"Do you still keep up with Sheldon's work." Dave made a significant effort at the beginning of their relationship to resist the temptation to talk about Sheldon. She knew going into their relationship Dave admired Sheldon's work and thought he was brilliant, but then again, he never had met Sheldon. He wanted her to introduce them, but it never seemed right, introducing her current boyfriend to her ex. Then she and Dave were engaged and Sheldon seemed distant. They stopped talking for the most part and it no longer seemed appropriate to introduce him. Then they were married and moved and it all happened so quickly Amy wondered when the last time Dave had even mentioned Sheldon's name. Three years ago in passing, perhaps, before he caught herself and remembered his wife did not like reminders of her ex.

"Do you want the truth?" Dave asked.

"Yes," she said, already knowing the answer from the question. He did still keep up with Sheldon's work. Only he never felt like he could talk to her about it despite the fact that she would understand. That was a part of who he was, one of his interests. He liked theoretical physics and admired Sheldon's work, and with his Nobel Prize, clearly a large portion of the world admired his work as well. There was nothing wrong with that.

Was it silly of her thinking he no longer kept up with Sheldon's research just because he stopped mentioning it to her because it made her uncomfortable? Upset? Or maybe she was just naive and foolish.

"Yes," Dave echoed back. The admission did not hurt as much as she thought it would, but neither was it a good feeling per say. She felt neutral. Dave could have whatever interests he wanted. She could not be mad at him for that. Reason and emotion, she knew, were two very different things.

"Oh," she said. "You haven't talked about him in a long time," she said, at loss for what to say.

"It made you uncomfortable so I stopped. Should I have told you?"

"No," she said quickly, grateful that his silence stemmed from a desire to please her. She appreciated it. She really did. "But you told Cassie?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"And Felix. But he's more of a mummy's girl. If it wasn't for him keeping up with Cassie he wouldn't care about physics at all."

"Smart boy," Amy observed. "So Cassie reads his work as well."

"She's brilliant. Did you know Dr Cooper published his first paper when he was Cassie's age?"

That one question reminded her of the early days in their relationship when Dave would inadvertently let something slip about Sheldon, a fact he intended to surprise her with but she already knew, and more.

"Yes. On algebraic topology," she said. Dave had the good sense to blush.

"Of course you know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No. It's alright. It's an interest you and Cassie share and you should feel comfortable talking about it. I don't want you to feel like you two can't ever talk about physics."

"Alright." Dave kissed the top of her head and she felt a sense of peace return. Sure, maybe not everything was what it seemed but it was something she could deal with. Could tolerate. Besides, it was silly to let an old relationship that was history define her present.

They were good again. Silly fights were to be expected when two people spent as much time together as they did, and she really was grateful for his patience and understanding and the way he cared about her feelings.


	53. Chapter 53

The day of reckoning was there at long last. The gnawing in her gut was even worse than she anticipated. Five years since she last saw her mother in person. It was when her children were born and she was too preoccupied to notice anything else. Now, without that worry to distract her, she felt nervous all over again.

Nothing she ever did was enough. _You need to go on dates, Amy. Find a man to settle down with._ But mother, I don't want to date. _You go on at least one date a year or I won't let you use my George Foreman grill anymore._ Fine mother. I have a boyfriend now, Armin the miniature horse breeder. _Armin isn't real. How could you lie to me Amy?_ I want to be a neuroscientist mother. _Now, Amy, that's just foolish. You need to join a sorority and find a nice college man to settle down with._ I went to a frat party and I woke up with more clothes on. It was humiliating. _Just give it another chance, Amy. If you only tried harder you will find someone._ I don't want to. Listen, mother, you don't need to set me up on a blind date. I'm seeing someone. _Really? Who?_ Sheldon. He's a theoretical physicist. _You're just saying that to get me off of your case. This Sheldon is just as fake as Armin._

Look, mother, this is Sheldon, my boyfriend. I have to go now. My lust for Sheldon in burning in my loins. _Amy! How could you be so crude. I taught you better than that. I also taught you not to give away the milk for free._ You wanted me to have a boyfriend. Now I do. _Are you sure Sheldon is real? You never bring him around to any family events and honestly, Amy, I can't keep vouching for you when everyone asks if Sheldon is made up like Armin._ Leave it alone, mother. It's my life. _It's been three years since you started dating and I still have not met him. When are you getting married?_ We're not getting married yet. _Why not? You're getting old, Amy. You need to marry him before he leaves you for a younger woman. You'll never find another one._ Sheldon and I aren't ready to take that step yet. Leave it alone.

 _You broke up with Sheldon. You pierced your ears. You drink alcohol. I don't know who you are anymore, Amy. You certainly aren't the daughter I raised. Go sit in the closet and think about what you've done._ Fine. I will.

I'm getting married. _To Sheldon?_ No. To Dave. We've been dating for a year. _And you never told me? How could you Amy?_ I'm sorry. I just wanted to keep this to myself. We're getting married in three months. You and dad are invited.

I'm pregnant. Was pregnant. _I knew it. You only got married because you were pregnant. Must you always shame me, Amy._ Mom. I wasn't pregnant when I got married. _Are you sure about that?_ Yes, mother, I'm a neuroscientist. I know I was not pregnant during my wedding. _If you say so._ Why don't you believe me?

We're moving to London. _London. Good gracious, Amy, do you hate your mother that much that you are going to move halfway across the world to avoid me._ No. Dave and I are moving to London. _But you just had babies. You can't move with infants._ We have to. My mother-in-law needs someone to take care of her and Dave has no other relatives who can. We're moving and there's nothing you can do to stop me. _Clearly not. I don't know why I even try with you, exhausting child._ I'm a grown woman, mother. I make my own decisions. _Why can't you bring my grandchildren home to visit. We haven't seen you for the last three Thanksgivings and Christmases. Your father and I deserve to know our grandchildren._ I already told you we can't leave Beth on her own. _Then hire a nurse to take care of her._ She's family. We can't leave her alone on a holiday. _The woman can survive one holiday without you. She doesn't even celebrate Thanksgiving._ Dave and I can't afford the time off work, alright. _Nonsense. The both of you have 28 paid vacation days. You have time to come visit your mother._ If you want to see Cassie and Felix that badly then come out and visit us. We have a spare room you can stay in. _Fly to London? Don't be absurd, Amy. Your father and I are too old to travel that far. Your poor father would have a heart attack._ Then don't come visit us. I don't know what to tell you mother. _Send the children out to stay with us for the summer then._ They're three, mother. I can't send them away by themselves. _They won't be by themselves. Your father and I raised you, ungrateful child. We can take care of our grandchildren._ And what a great job you did raising me. _What's that supposed to me?_ Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

 _I talked to your husband. He thinks it's time you brought your family out to visit their grandparents._ And I told you before it's not the right time. Why can't you respect my decision? _Why don't you respect your mother?_ And I really don't appreciate you going behind my back and talking to Dave about it. _I had no other choice. You refuse to visit us and I won't go the rest of my life never seeing my grandchildren again._ Then come here to visit us. I've told you that before. _And we can't come._

 _How could you come home and not stay with your father and I?_ Penny and Leonard already offered for us to stay with them and I already accepted. That's final, mother. _I'm sure they won't mind if you stay with your parents instead._ Yes the will mind. Penny's really looking forward to having us and I want to stay with my best friend. _Some best friend she was. She's the reason you drink and gamble and mutilated your body. She's the reason your children were conceived out of wedlock._ I don't gamble and I pierced my ears. I did not mutilate my body. And I've told you before, I was not pregnant before I married Dave. No one uses that word anymore anyways. _How do you know your children weren't conceived out of wedlock with the way you went about giving your milk away for free._ I know because they were born a year after I was married. _So? How do I know that isn't a lie just like Armin?_ Because pregnancy lasts nine months. Do the math! _Don't you take that tone with me, Amy Farrah Fowler._ It's Gibbs. _Yes. Only because you couldn't be bothered to marry the first man you slept with and brought shame onto the whole family in doing so._ Sheldon and I never slept together! _I don't believe you. Your young man told me himself about everything the two of you did together._ He said that because I told him to to get you off of my back. Will you let that go already. _I don't see why I should. You never tell me anything, Amy._ That's because you always find fault. Why would I want to tell you to be criticized? _I just want the best for you, Amy. You know that._ No, mother. I'm not sure I do.

 _You're sending your children to boarding school. What's next, you'll send away your husband too? Do you know how much shame that will bring to your father and I._ I'm not sending anyone away. My children aren't going to boarding school. _At that uppity private school of theirs they might as well be._ Enough, mother. I don't have to listen to this anymore. _Would you at least try to wear more makeup? You're almost forty now. If you're not careful then your husband will find another younger, more attractive woman._ I like the amount of makeup I wear just fine. And how dare you suggest Dave would ever leave me. He won't because we love each other. _Is that what you think? For a smart girl you are really stupid sometimes. There are two things men want in a woman: home cooked food and a beautiful woman who can satisfy them in bed._ I beg you. Stop right there. _Do you make him dinner? Please tell me you cook._ That's none of your business. _Fine. But I do have some books I can send you if you have trouble pleasing him in bed. For instance, you can—_ Stop right there. I don't want to hear it and if you keep talking like that we won't see you at all when we come to visit. _Fine. Be like that Amy. You're an ungrateful child._

Just what do you have against my husband. _I don't know what you're talking about._ Bullshit. _Language, Amy!_ Fuck my language. I don't bloody care. Why do you hate my husband? He's never done anything to you. _Never done anything to me? He took my daughter halfway around the world and won't let me see her again._ Dave's the one who convinced me to come and visit you. Now I really think we should cancel our flight. _Anyhow, you never should have married him._ That wasn't up to you. I'm happy now. Why can't you just be happy for me? _You should have married the first man you slept with, not Dave. For shame, Amy, do you know how humiliated I am that my daughter wasn't a virgin on her wedding night._ That was six fucking years ago. And do you hear yourself. We don't live in the eighteenth century anymore. And for the last time, Sheldon and I never slept together. _Well, and least I will be comforted to know that I was right when you end up old and alone. I just wanted better for you, Amy. I always have._ Cut the crap, mother. You never wanted what was best for me. _I let you go off to Harvard, didn't I?_ That was for my education. _You were supposed to find a husband there._ I didn't go to Harvard to find a husband. I went to Harvard to study neuroscience. _And a waste of time it was. I would have more than just two grandchildren by now if you'd done what I wanted you to do._ Then it's a good thing you don't control me. I'm happy with my two children and I don't need you anymore. _You don't know what you're saying._ I do. I don't appreciate being told that all my life choices are wrong. I'm really happy right now. Why can't you just be happy for me? _Because you don't know what you're missing out on._ Oh that's rich. Coming from a woman who only ever had one child. You're a hypocrite. Stop trying to interfere in my life. _What interference? You hated me so much you moved to a different country._ I'm hanging up now, mother. I'll see you in two weeks, and if you keep criticizing me like you are now, I guarantee it will be the last time I **ever** bring my children to visit. _Amy._ Goodbye mother.

"Is everything alright?" Dave asked.

Amy looked up, torn from her inner thoughts, many of which involved incidents and conversations that never even happened. She did not realize she was sitting stiffly on the couch staring into space and thinking. "No. Everything's not alright. I can't do it. I can't see her."

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Dave said.

"But you're the reason we're here. Because you think our children should meet their grandparents and that's what we're going to do."

"I didn't realize it would make you this upset. I'll call your mother and tell her the children are sick. We'll stay here, go out for a nice dinner with your friends. Cassie and Felix love the Wolowitz kids and will be happy to play with them. Come on. It won't be so bad."

She wanted to do as Dave suggested. She really wanted to play hooky and do what gave her pleasure, namely blowing off her parents and not having to go over to her childhood home and feel judged and ridiculed for every aspect of her life. She would not have to defend herself from false accusation. Staying in with their friends was a much more cheerful prospect than facing the firing squad that was sure to be guarding the walkway to her mother's home.

Yet at the same time she knew Dave was right when he suggested visiting. She wanted her children to have a relationship with her parents. They had their grandmother, but she knew Beth tired them. They understood that grandma could not help but forget who they were, and forget their mother, and they also understood that she did not remember telling a story before so that was the reason she repeatedly told the same stories day after day. Now the only grandmother they'd ever known was dead, and it hit the both of them hard. They'd never know their other grandfather. She did not want to deprive them of their family, little though she wanted to see her parents again. Besides, she could put up with her mother's incessant nagging about her life choices as long as she did not try the same with her children.

"No. I think we should go. Cassie and Felix should meet their grandparents. I mean, now that they're old enough to remember them."

The decision had her feeling jittery all over again. It was for her children. Maybe if she told herself that enough times she would actually start to believe it. It wouldn't be so bad. She could make that statement her mantra and she still would never believe it.

"We don't have to if you really don't want to." For the first time all morning she felt her nerves leaving her. Dave was offering her an escape, no questions asked. She was so tempted to accept it and she loved him all the more for understanding and offering it. However, she was no coward.

"I don't want to but I think we should. I can put up with my mother for one evening, but if my parents try to treat Cassie and Felix the same way they treat me, promise me you'll get us out of there."

"I promise." He seemed a bit nervous and Amy knew he was not a forceful type of man. He meant well, but if it became necessary to extract themselves, she would have to be the one to do it. Dave did not have a mean bone in his body.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Dave kissed her forehead and she felt a familiar calm settle over her. It would not last for long. The moment they were in the car while she drove them along the familiar route to her childhood home, the nerves would be back full force.

Per her expectations, they were. There was a fancy bottle of wine in the car, something they'd picked up along the way. A bottle that nice would never last an hour in a house containing Penny. She also had and array of Swiss and German chocolates in the car to present to them. No matter how much she tried, however, she knew her mother and father would find faults with the gifts. They would never be good enough. She would never be good enough.

Cassie and Felix, however, were happily singing along to the kids radio. At least they were happy, and hopefully her mother would be nicer to them than to her. Disparagement of herself she would tolerate but if it happened to her children they were gone, no questions asked.

"It's brave of you to do this," Dave said quietly, hoping the children were too distracted by the music to take much notice of the conversation up front.

"I don't feel brave. I feel like I'm five again and I've been called into the principal's office." Not that such a scenario ever happened to her as a child. The only time she'd ever been called to the principal's office was to receive awards. Not that the awards were ever good enough for her parents. After all, why did she only receive first place at her school science fair and third place at the state science fair? Their daughter wouldn't be going to the national science fair but their dear friend's son was.

"I can see why you don't go home much." Amy grimaced at the reminder.

"Luckily for us we live far enough away."

"I'm starting to appreciate that." He was successfully distracting her. If only he could keep it up the evening might not be as horrible as she thought. It was only one evening. One evening a couple of days in and then they wouldn't have to see her parents again for the rest of the trip. One dinner. Knowing her mother it would take an hour, two at the most. Then she'd insist they talk for another hour or so and then she would be home free. It wasn't that much to ask. Hopefully, she could distract her mother with her grandchildren. That might very well do the trick to get her mother off of her back for once.

Then again, who was she kidding? Knowing her mother she would find some fault with the children and blame it all on Amy's parenting abilities. After all, if she wasn't pretty enough or smart enough or successful enough, what hope did she have for being a good parent in her mother's eye? Not that she needed or wanted any validation from the woman.

"We're here," she said when she pulled up into the driveway, leaving the car idling for longer than strictly necessary before cutting the ignition.

"It's not too late to turn around and leave," Dave said.

"Nope. See that curtain?" she pointed to the window directly to the left of the front door, "We've been spotted."

They helped Cassie and Felix out of the car and made their way to the front door. The house hadn't changed a bit since she was a child. It was a bit eerie coming back after so many years away.

"Amy. Dave, so good to see you again. And these must be Cassie and Felix. I haven't seen the two of you since you were babies. Come in. Come in. Give your grandmother a hug."

Amy looked at Dave with surprise at the sheer cordiality. It did not even seem faked. Truly puzzling. She and Dave followed the children inside. They seemed wary about meeting another grandmother. Perhaps she had done them a disservice not bringing them to visit before. Just because her relationship with her mother was strained did not mean theirs had to be as well.

They moved into the living room where her mother already had coloring books and crayons set out on the floor. She and Dave sat down on the love seat while her mother called her father to join them.

Leaning over to Dave, she whispered, "I feel like I'm in trouble."

"Then I am too." She giggled slightly. It might very well be the only laugh the house heard from her that entire evening.

"What are you two laughing about?"

"Dad," she said and stood up to give him a hug.

"Amy-bird. It's so good to see you again." She hugged him again and sat down next to Dave.

"Hi, son, it's good to see you again." After years in California he only retained a small bit of his British accent, "Even if you did take my Amy away to the homeland."

"Well, sir, she was the one who wanted to go."

Mrs Fowler forced a smile, though Mr Fowler brushed the comment aside with a wave of his hand. "Never mind that. Tell me, are you a Manchester United man?"

 _Say yes. Say yes._ Amy urgently repeated silently as if Dave would hear her if her thoughts were empathetic enough.

"I am," Dave admitted and Amy breathed a sigh of relief at the pitfall he narrowly avoided. Then again, if she needed to extract them quickly, that might just be the way to go about it.

"I'm glad to hear that. Now, last time we met I didn't have enough time to get to know you. What school did you go to?"

"Cambridge."

"I'm an Oxford man myself."

And let the snide judgements descend, no matter that her father and husband went to the two most distinguished universities in the country, if it was not her father's alma matter it couldn't possibly be as good. She knew that well when she decided to go to Harvard.

"Ah. Yes. I see . . . Umm . . . I . . ."

"Don't worry yourself, son. Now I know you're a maths teacher."

"Professor," Amy interjected. Was this what it was like introducing one's high school boyfriend to one's parents felt like? If so, she was glad she skipped that experience to save her the pain of having to undergo it a second time. While Dave had met her parents on a handful of occasions, she had done her best to keep her husband far out of her mother's reach. He might not have been a flight risk but she wasn't going to let anything risk ruining her special day. If anything could scare off her loyal fiancé, it would be her parents. Now he was her husband and she had the assurance there was no where he could go. It made the entire experience only a little less nerve wracking.

The inquisition continued from there as her parents asked Dave question after question. Or, more correctly, her father had an apparently endless stream of questions. Her mother spent time eyeing her and Dave individually as if they were a puzzle she couldn't solve.

"When's dinner?" she asked once, only to be abruptly hushed. Then, to her surprise, Mrs Fowler sat down on the floor beside the children.

"What are you coloring?" she asked.

Amy looked to Dave surprised. Cassie showed Mrs Fowler the picture she was working on. Or, more correctly, the picture she was writing over.

"That's lovely, dear. But you're supposed to color in the lines," Mrs Fowler corrected. Amy pursed her lips together. Here comes the criticism. Can't even make it to dinner without finding some fault.

Cassie was blind to the insult, a fact for which Amy was very grateful. Instead, her daughter looked proudly at her grandmother. "Coloring is for babies. I'm calculating the speed a space station would need to rotate at to create one g artificial gravity."

"So you're going to be a scientist just like your mother. That's nice, dear," Mrs Fowler said.

Amy looked at Dave nervously. It wasn't bad yet and still she felt like they were dangling right on a precipice. One gust of wind would knock them right off but for now they were precariously balanced.

"No. Mummy's a neuro-ologist. Cassie is going to be a physicist," Felix announced proudly.

"Neurobiologist, love," Amy corrected.

"Neurobiolologist," Felix tried again.

"Neurobiologist." That time it was Cassie.

"Neurobiologist," Felix mimicked, but he still looked towards her to see if he got it right.

Amy nodded yes and Felix beamed proudly at his accomplishment.

"Is that so?" Mrs Fowler said, and from her uninterested tone Amy knew she did not care. Hopefully the children would not pick up on her disinterest. "And what about you. What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I'm going to be a musician."

"That's wonderful." Mrs Fowler clearly did not think it was wonderful at all. At least she was tactful enough to keep that to herself. "Can I see your coloring?" she asked to change the subject, for which Amy was grateful. Better her to focus on drawing than career choices. It was one of the many things her mother did not approve of and, ashamed as she was to admit it, the disapproval over her career hurt more than that aimed at her private life.

Felix showed his grandmother his drawing. Unlike Cassie, his was not covered in equations, but neither did he color in nicely between the lines. There were scribbles, but mainly he embellished the drawing, adding other people and animals. There was even a cat that had wings flying overhead.

Mrs Fowler pressed her lips together and looked at her daughter. "Amy, your children have no idea how to color."

Amy counted to three in her head to resist the urge to argue. That was why she had wanted to avoid this encounter. She really should have accepted Dave's offer to cancel indefinitely.

"They're being creative. Let them be," she said as neutrally as she could.

Mrs Fowler appeared like she was about to argue and then thought better of it. Standing up from the floor, she brushed off her skirt and sat down next to Mr Fowler.

"Very well then. What have you been up to? Still a neuroscientist."

"Neurobiologist," she corrected stiffly. Mrs Fowler waved her hand in the air.

"Same difference. Now when can I be expecting more grandchildren?"

Amy looked hopelessly at Dave, begging him to answer the question. "Amy and I are content with our family just the way it is." Mrs Fowler narrowed her eyes at him, and Amy felt guilty for directing her mother's ire towards him. This was supposed to only be unpleasant for her.

"I see." The doubt in her tone led Amy and Dave to know she did not believe him, but Amy would happily take her mother's disinclination to argue at the present moment. _Peaceful thoughts_ , she reminded herself. _Peaceful thoughts. Monkeys and cardigans and Dave. Peaceful thoughts._

"Are you incapable of having more children? Amy, I told you that you should have married younger."

Her mantra of inner peace broke as suddenly as it came. "Mother," she gasped, "that's none of your concern. Dave and I don't want more children. That's it."

"I see," Mrs Fowler repeated herself. Amy looked back at Dave. He no longer seemed as relaxed as before. She wanted to lean over and tell him a well deserved told-you-so but resisted the urge. Her parents would be able to hear, after all, and they had yet to sit down for dinner. Let this be the last time they fulfilled their obligation to visit her parents. The evening could not end soon enough.

"Well son, why don't you come help me with the steaks," Mr Fowler said at last. Dave agreed, and Amy knew better than to whine about not being left alone with her mother.

"That's a great idea. I'm starving. Cassie, Felix, I have some toys for you if you want to play outside."

Damn but her mother was good. Amy watched enviously as the children followed the men outside. "Don't look at me like that, Amy. They're my grandchildren and I wanted to make sure they have fun. There's a slide and a sandbox and some sand toys."

"Joy," Amy said sarcastically, wishing she could escape and go play outside. She had no particular desire to built sandcastles but just about anything seemed better than being left with her mother in the living room.

"You can set the table while I get the rest of dinner ready," Mrs Fowler instructed. A guest in her former home and she was still being put to work. Amy went to the cupboards to get the dishes, exactly in the same place as they were while she was growing up but the plates were different. She set them without a word, hoping her silence would keep her mother's comments at bay. She was not to be that lucky as to avoid conversation entirely.

"I heard that your last boyfriend, that Sheldon Cooper, won the Nobel Prize in physics last year," her mother said once they were alone.

"He did," Amy reluctantly agreed. Any other subject but Sheldon would be preferable.

"Now I don't get why you didn't marry him. A Nobel Prize. Can you imagine that? You could have been married to a man with a Nobel Prize and instead you find a math teacher—"

"—Professor."

"Fine. Professor. Well, young lady, what on Earth were you thinking."

"I was thinking that I love Dave."

"Yes. Well. You made a mistake, darling. It's much to late to do anything about it now."

Amy thrust the last glass of water down onto the table forcefully enough that it caused half the water to spill onto the table cloth. Fantastic. Let that be added to her mother's list of her numerous failings. It was apparently infinite.

"Dave wasn't a mistake, mother," Amy argued. "I love him and I would like you to accept the fact that he's my husband and we're happy together."

"You could have been happier with—"

"—No. I would have been miserable. That doesn't matter anymore. Will you please just let it go already? I don't want to keep arguing about this."

"We wouldn't have to argue about this if you'd done as I told you to."

If she did as her mother told her to she'd still be single and childless, but she decided that was a thought best kept to herself.

"I'm going to check up on the children," Amy said and stormed out to the backyard. Felix and Cassie were happily making a sandcastle. Well, they were currently in the process of destroying sand castles but until they came to her screaming and crying, they could be however destructive they wanted. As long as they could escape the Fowler house unscathed she would consider it a win. As for herself, there was no hope.

Dave left his place by the grill and came over to her. He settled his hands onto her hips and she craned her neck to look at his face.

"You alright?" he asked.

"No," she sulked.

"I'm sorry I made you do this." His apology sounded genuine and she wanted to accept it and in doing so place all the blame on him. That would not be right, however. It was as much her decision to come as his. She was glad they were staying with Penny and Leonard rather than with her parents. She could not tolerate an entire vacation in the house. That she knew well.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she finally settled on the truth. "I just don't handle my mother's criticism well."

"Yes. I get the sense your father doesn't like me."

Amy grimaced. "Sorry. I have no idea why. What did he say to you?"

If her father insulted Dave, regardless of the state of dinner they were leaving. She would not stay and tolerate rude behavior on their part.

"Nothing important," Dave said.

He sounded upset, which was unusual because he was rarely upset. If anyone could upset him, it would be her parents.

"What did he say?" Amy repeated, bracing herself for another argument if need be.

"I don't want to get into this here," Dave finally said after a pregnant pause.

Amy sighed. Of course not. They could talk about it later once they were out of purgatory. Dinner was almost ready. Then they could eat, talk for the minimally acceptable time, and make their escape for the next five years at least.

"Amy. Get back in here and reset the table. I can't believe you spilled water all over my table cloth. It's lace, you know."

Amy looked at Dave and rolled her eyes. "Does she not know two five year olds will be eating on her lace tablecloth?"

Nevertheless, she went back into the kitchen and found her handiwork was already undone, paper towels and a new tablecloth already placed on the table for her to attend to. She dried the table and then reset it, being careful not to spill or leave anything out of place again. Normally she was meticulous in everything she did. It was a trait she highly appreciated being a sign of a well developed, intelligent mind. Now more than anything she wanted Penny to teach her how to be cluttered and messy just so she could spite her mother.

She really needed to get out of that house again. She felt herself reverting into a teenager, angst and all.

"Will this be alright?" she asked when she was done. She helped her mother carry the dishes onto the table, a salad, fruit, and baked potatoes with all the fixings available.

"It will do," Mrs Fowler said, still not thrilled. She tried. She showed up. There wasn't much else she could reasonably be expected to do.

Mrs Fowler went outside to collect the children for dinner. She herded them into the bathroom to wash off the sand before they would be allowed at the table. Amy heard the whines and being forced to leave their game of giants destroying castles. She sat down at her spot at the table. Dave sat directly to Mr Fowler's right at the heat of the table, and she looked over at him, silently asking why he didn't sit next to her. He shrugged.

Right. Parental pressure was a force to be reckoned with.

The kids sat on either side of their grandmother at the other end of the table. Amy felt alone. Isolated. Just like a child again.

"How is your school?" Mr Fowler asked the two children. In between bites, they did not respond, to eager to have steak, a rare treat for them.

"Cassie. Felix. Your grandfather asked you a question." Amy encouraged them to talk.

"School's boring. The teachers don't know anything," Cassie complained. "One of them—" Cassie giggled "—one of them scolded me for teaching Euler's equation for show and tell."

"Ah. Euler's equation. Well, little missy, you are right. Your teachers should know that Euler's equation is a work of genius. Amy, why are you letting your children go to a school that does not even appreciate basic maths?"

"It's one of the best primary schools in the country," she argued.

"Humph. I doubt it." Then, he returned his attention to the children. "And Felix. What do you think about school?"

"Miss Jenson's really pretty and she knows all sorts of things. She told me that den...dem...de'ocracy was created by the Greeks but the English do it best."

"Democracy," Mrs Fowler corrected. "And that just isn't true. American democracy is better."

"No it isn't. Miss Jenson is always right."

Mrs Fowler looked at Amy flabbergasted. "But the fourth of July," she protested.

"What's special about the fourth of July?" Cassie asked curiously, her attention drawn from her calculations.

Mrs Fowler looked at Amy accusingly now. "And let me guess, you don't celebrate Thanksgiving anymore either," she said.

"Dave and I have work on Thanksgiving, so no. I don't celebrate it anymore."

"What's Thanksgiving? What's the fourth of July?" Cassie absolutely hated having her questions ignored, and she became increasingly frustrated with the lack of answers.

"They're American holidays," Dave said to her.

"Just what are you teaching your children, Amy?" Mrs Fowler asked simultaneously.

Amy did not know how to reply. Rarely at a loss for words, this was one of the few times she desperately searched for something, anything, to say.

Oblivious to the second conversation at the table, Felix continued giving details on Miss Jenson this and Miss Jenson that, much to Mrs Fowler's horror.

"It's just a harmless crush, mom." Amy tried to calm her mother down but her attempt proved ineffectual.

"Just a crush. Just a crush? There is no such thing as just a crush. You are letting your children run wild and you send them to a subpar school."

"As I said earlier, it's an excellent school."

"No. There's only one solution. You need help. I insist you move back here and send Cassie and Felix to your old school. They need a proper, American education. They are American, Amy, and they should feel prideful about it."

"They're also English," Amy said in exasperation, "If they want to be prideful of that heritage than they can be. And we're not moving. We're settled in London. We have a house and it's where our careers are. Our children have a school to go to. We aren't going to move."

Dave looked at her and she could tell he appeared surprised but he also seemed pleased. Right. Since Beth died they had never discussed what their plans for the future would be. They moved to London to take care of Beth, and now she was gone there was no reason they had to stay there, other than they started a life there already. Yet they could also go anywhere they wanted now. Anywhere in the world. And they hadn't even talked about it, hadn't even discussed it.

Dave was upset about his mother's death and then guilty at his relief. She did not want to upset him further. Then they were planning a vacation and life was busy and explicitly discussing their plans for the future just seemed to vanish, vaguely defined but absent as they favored the status quo.

"Yes," Dave agreed, "We're staying in London."

Amy couldn't tell whether he was happy by the decision or not, only knowing that she should have consulted him first. However, she was hardly going to admit in front of her parents that they had no set plan in mind now their reason for moving to London was no longer applicable.

"Oh. Well. We'll just have to come and visit you then."

Amy felt a brief tinge of fear before the logical portion of her brain took over. For years her mother was resolutely against making the long journey to visit them. Amy doubted anything suddenly changed. They were settled in California and had little intention of leaving. Her mother could not be serious in that threat, even though Amy also knew it wasn't a threat. Not really. It sure did feel like one, however.

"Wonderful," Amy lied through her teeth. "We'd be delighted to have you."

Her steak was already gone but her father was only half finished. Could he eat any slower? Dinner would not end until everyone was finished. Once dinner was over, an hour tops and they could excuse themselves. _Liar liar pants on fire_ , her brain teased her but she ignored it. Better a liar than rude as far as her mother was concerned.

Once dinner was finally over and her mother began clearing the table, Amy pulled Dave aside. "We need to leave now," she said desperately. She was at the end of her tolerance. Her mother would certainly comment on her rudeness at leaving immediately after eating but if they stayed she could not be certain she would be able to contain herself.

"Alright. I'll get the kids ready and we'll make a run for it." Amy could not tell if he was serious or not. Regardless, she wholeheartedly agreed with the statement.

"Great. Lets grab the kids and run before they're done in there."

In the end, they waited in the living room for Mr and Mrs Fowler to finish cleaning up from dinner and come join them. The conversation proved no less torturous than earlier. Now her major faults were out of the way, her wine choice to go with the dinner was criticized. Heaven forbid she spring for a $200 bottle and still have her mother criticize it for not being good enough. And the chocolates. How could she only bring her mother chocolates? She must be an ungrateful, inconsiderate child to only bring chocolates as a peace offering.

Amy watched the agonizingly slow pace of the minute hand, her resolve to stay an hour dwindling to fifty minutes, then forty five, and settling on forty as the time drew on. An hour was impossible. A half hour agonizing. Only ten minutes left before they could make their escape. Forty minutes after dinner. That was an okay length of time to stay before saying goodbye. It was a long drive back from Orange County to Pasadena and they were tired.

Yes. That was the reason they would leave early. The children were tired. Truth. She did not want to have to use her children as an excuse but there was no other option. Her alternatives were fully exhausted.

Five minutes until she could excuse them all. Those five minutes the clock slowed to a standstill, not progressing at all. Ignore her mother's jibes and criticisms. Ignore her father's cold demeanor towards Dave. She would make up for this visit to him later. At least the children were still happy. That was the only reason they were still there. Duty and obligation and a whole host of reasons she could no longer remember.

"Well, mother, I believe we should be going. It's getting late and the children need to go to bed."

"It's only 7:00," Mrs Fowler protested.

"Their bedtime is at 8:00. We really should be going."

"They have not seen their grandparents since they were babies and who knows the next time you will visit us. They can stay up late just this one night."

Amy looked at Dave silently begging him to help her. "We'd love to stay, Mrs Fowler, but unfortunately my wife is right." He smiled softly at her. "She usually is." She felt a bit of her tension melt at the kind words. She needed that. Already she felt just a bit better for the entire ordeal. "They get really grumpy when they stay up late and are not good company. It was very nice seeing you both again."

He was good, she had to give him that. Mrs Fowler was not happy at their departure but she accepted it with few extra arguments. The children said goodbye to their grandparents, happier with the evening than Amy and Dave were, and piled into the car.

Dave escorted Amy to the passenger seat and adjusted the drivers seat to his much longer frame.

"I can still drive," Amy protested.

"You're upset. I'll drive."

"You don't know where we are," she argued.

"You can direct me," he countered.

"Fine," she said. "You drive. I'm tired."

On the plus side, even though she kept repeating that evening's events in her head on the drive home, they would not have to do that again for a long time, if ever. She fulfilled her obligation to visit her parents and introduce her children to their grandparents. There was no longer a need to kill herself over it again. She no longer needed to put up with the snide remarks and the general disapproval.

She could look forward to seeing Leonard and Penny again. They, at least, gave the actual appearance of loving her and caring about her. And Dave and the children. They escaped unscathed. Well, not Dave, but at least her parents did not target him as directly as they did her.

"Let's go straight to sleep," she suggested as they pulled into the driveway. The kids, at least, were already blissfully asleep. She wasn't jealous of them. Not at all. _Lie_. She told herself.


	54. Chapter 54

Bernadette and Howard's house looked just as she remembered it. Cassie and Felix were unsure about meeting the other children, as they did not usually do well interacting with others, but since it was either play with Howard and Bernadette's children or be bored by the adults, they settled on playing monopoly with the other children.

"Mummy, this board is wrong," Cassie said when she first looked at the setup, her face scrunched up in confusion.

Amy glanced at it. "It's just fine. Why don't you play?"

"It's not right. Where is Mayfair? What is Park Place?"

Amy looked more carefully at the board. "It's a little different, but you should play."

"The money isn't right," Felix said as he looked at it.

Halley, who as the oldest appointed herself the banker, pouted. "I counted it right," she defended herself.

"I only have one fifty and one twenty. You counted wrong."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Cassie, Felix, relax. If you don't want to play, then you can join the adults."

Her threat seemed to work, as Cassie and Felix stopped arguing that the game was wrong.

It had been too long since Amy last saw her friends, she thought. Raj and Emily broke up, but she already knew that via their Skype conversations. While she regularly spoke with Bernadette and Penny, Amy realized she had not actually said a word to Howard in years, not since before she moved to London.

"How long are you visiting for?" Bernadette asked and took a sip of her wine.

"Two weeks," Dave answered.

"Oh. We'll have to do this again before you leave," Bernadette said. Amy and Dave both agreed. It was odd, sitting by them all again. Or all of the group but one.

"So, Stuart, are you still living here?" Amy asked conversationally. She should know that type of thing, but over time, she became more out of the loop being so far away from everything. Last she heard Bernadette and Howard managed to get Stuart out of their house, but he was apparently living there again, a benefit to them both, she surmised, as it was Stuart and Raj, not Howard, cooking dinner.

"Yeah. I babysit now," Stuart said.

"That's nice," Amy said, unsure where else to go.

"Are you seeing anyone else, Raj?"

"No. I'm going to die alone," Raj whined. That was familiar, and in the familiarity there was comfort.

The rest of the evening was pleasant but Amy was getting tired by the end. Was it just her or was dinner with the gang more tiring than it used to be? Rather than relax and enjoy the company of her friends as she used to do, she felt a need to keep up the conversation, catching up on events she had not been a part of or known about. She missed out on their numerous inside jokes and references to activities that she wasn't a part of anymore. In turn, as she spoke about their life, she said some phrases and words that made them look twice at her. She referenced places they did not know of, and she found herself constantly having to explain what had become, to her, a part of everyday life. Perhaps her exhaustion was also a sign that she was older, the company no longer exhilarating but tiring.

They ended the evening with Raj inviting everyone over in two days, an invitation Amy and Dave eagerly accepted. She would only have a short time to see her friends before they left, and even if it was tiring she wanted to make the most of it. Besides, Cassie and Felix seemed to have befriended Howard and Bernadette's children, their initial whining over Monopoly notwithstanding, and she and Dave were beginning to run out of ways to keep them entertained.

The next night was set aside for girls night, just her, Penny, and Bernadette.

"It's been awhile since it's been just the three of us," Bernadette commented.

Amy took a sip of her margarita. "It has," she agreed. In fact, it had been a long time since she'd had a girls night, with or without Penny and Bernadette. She would have to make a note to do them more frequently given how much she remembered liking them.

"To us," Penny proclaimed and raised her glass of wine, prompting the three to cheers and drink. "It hasn't been the same since you left, Amy."

That brought a broad smile to her face. Of course things were different after she left. She worked hard ingratiating and easing her way into Penny and Bernadette's close-knit friendship. Her abrupt departure would have shifted the dynamics she worked so hard to cultivate.

"I've missed you too," Amy said.

Three full bottles of wine later, Penny said, "Will you be moving back?"

"Yeah, Amy, please say you're moving back."

Although she already felt light headed, Amy took another sip of margarita to fortify herself. "I don't think we are. Our careers and our house are there. Cassie and Felix are comfortable at their school. We talked about moving back but honestly, we're settled where we are and we don't want to disrupt the kids."

"So that's it. You're not coming back?"

"No," Amy said. She and Dave were content in their decision to stay in the house in London. To keep their jobs there and to allow the twins to go about their normal, familiar life. They were happy where they were and she did not want to disturb that.

"But we miss you," Bernadette said.

"And I miss you to. But Dave and I talked about it and we think it's best for our family that we stay there."

She felt a strange tinge of what? Satisfaction? Contentment? The last time she had a drink at girls night was before she was pregnant with the twins. While she did not need the influence of alcohol to bluntly say whatever was on her mind, it did make her feel different. More passive. She was pleased that she had a family to call her own, something she once thought she did not want and later on despaired of never having. Yet somehow everything worked itself out for the best.

That's why there was no regret whatsoever. She was happy. Really happy. Being back made her feel nostalgic and a small part of her wanted to stay and have her old life with her friends back, but another part of her knew it was best to go home. California was no longer her home, yet she still felt torn between the two places. She belonged in both but she also belonged nowhere. It was a strange thought.

That would be the ethanol talking. In the morning she would be better, would no longer feel as if she was being pulled in two directions, each force equally strong and leaving her stuck in place, not moving either way but feeling more and more stressed.

"Good girls night?" Dave asked when she and Penny caught their cab back to the house.

Penny dragged Leonard to their bedroom, leaving Amy and Dave alone. "I guess," she sighed, still feeling disconcerted by the earlier questions about her plans for the future.

Chaos struck the next morning when there were no Cheerios for breakfast. Amy made an emergency run to the grocery store, taking Leonard's list as well. Once she was back, the Cheerios crisis averted, Dave pulled her aside.

They sat out on the back patio. Penny and Leonard were at work, Cassie and Felix kept entertained as Cassie played physics teacher and Felix the student. Amy knew it would not be long before Felix found them, upset at his sister for bossing him around most likely, but for now they had a moment of peace. She savored the abundant sunlight outside. It was a part of California she forgot she missed.

"Amy, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Dave started.

"This doesn't sound good," she commented. She could not have anticipated just how not good their conversation would shortly before.

"It's something your dad said to me the other day," Dave started.

Amy signed. "Ignore whatever my dad told you. It's for the best."

Amy was well acquainted with her parent's ability to manipulate. Dave, while he had met them before, was not as used to the dynamic and needed help handling it properly. Distance from her parents was one of the best arguments for staying in London as far as she was concerned, and it was that way for a reason.

"I tried but I can't." Dave fell silent and Amy waited patiently. "You still love Dr Cooper."

"I love you more." It was the truth and it came easily. What she and Sheldon used to have was nothing compared to the depth of her relationship with Dave. It was comfortable and they fit together. They had children. It couldn't get any more committed than that.

"You were upset when you heard he isn't here."

"We were friends for a long time before we were in a relationship, Dave. If he's in Texas something is wrong with him, and I was a bit worried but it isn't my business how he's doing anymore. I promise."

"Your dad seemed to think you'd be better off with him."

"That's not true!" Amy protested instantly. She felt a wave of anger towards her father. It was one thing for her mother to ambush her about her choice of husband; she put up with that type of nagging and general disappointment in her life choices her entire life and knew how to deal with it; it was an entirely different matter for her father to attack her husband.

"Don't listen to my dad. He was out of line and I'll tell him that. Just put it out of your mind," she begged.

Dave sighed. "I'm not sure I can," Dave finally admitted.

Amy was frozen. What did he mean by that?

"Dave, I love _you_. I married _you_. No matter what my parents think I chose _you_."

"Parents?" Dave picked up on the one part of her statement Amy regretted saying.

"My mother had a talk with me as well. Evidently, she and my dad share the same opinion. But it doesn't matter what they think."

"But what if it's true?" Dave asked. He sounded hurt. She'd heard him hurt before, most recently after his mother passed away, but this was a different type of hurt. It was almost as if he was defeated.

"What if what's true?"

"That you would be better off with Dr Cooper. Both your parents seem to think so."

He was blowing her parents' nonsense out of proportions.

"I don't think that; and that's all that should matter to you."

"I don't want to loose you." There she was getting angry that Dave was drawn into her parents' manipulations and all along she should have realized the problem. She was a neurobiologist. She knew how the brain worked, how past experiences shaped future perceptions.

"I'm not Sherry," Amy said quietly.

Dave turned to her, a bit stunned. "What are you talking about?"

Sherry was his ex-wife. The one that ran away with the French chef. "I'm not Sherry. I'd never cheat on you and I'm not going to run away. No matter what my parents think I'm with you now. 'Till death do us part' and all that."

"Amy?"

"Yes?"

"I'm an idiot," Dave said.

Amy smiled at him, her previous anger fading away. "You are," she agreed, "but you're my idiot. Come on, let's go check and make sure Felix and Cassie haven't murdered each other yet." She grabbed Dave's hand and stood up from her chair. He followed, easily towering over her.

"I'm sure they're fine," Dave tried to sooth her, and deep down she knew he was right, but at that moment she needed a break from the heavy conversation.

"I'm sure they are too but it doesn't hurt to check."

"Amy," Dave said and stopped Amy's forward momentum. Amy turned around to face him, turning her head upwards until she could see his expression.

"Dave," she said in return.

"I love you."

"I love you too."


	55. Chapter 55

"Aunt Amy!" two voices simultaneously exclaimed as their bodies flung themselves at Amy.

"Ohf," she huffed as collision. "Jenna. Mark! What a surprise," she exclaimed when she recognized them. They looked a lot older than when she last saw them.

She turned her attention to Cecile standing just outside the door, a younger boy holding onto her leg and hiding just slightly behind her. "And you must be Max," Amy said. Now six, Max looked very different than the last time she saw him as a baby. "Cecile, this is a huge surprise. What brings you down here?"

"Well, when I heard you were coming to visit Jenna and Mark wouldn't stop begging me to come. Surprise!"

Amy ushered them into Penny and Leonard's home. "This is wonderful. I don't know what to say," she said, "Dave! Cassie! Felix! Come down here please," she yelled so they could hear her.

Dave came first and greeted Amy's family. When Cassie and Felix arrived, Amy made the introductions. Though they were slightly younger than Max, they quickly stole him off to join them playing outside. She could tell Mark and Jenna wanted to go play too, but they decided to remain with the adults instead.

"How are you two doing?" Amy asked, wanting to hear more about her niece and nephew. She kept up with them sporadically but they appeared so grown up after five years.

"Good. I'm on the soccer team," Mark said.

"Congratulations. That's wonderful." Not one to enjoy sports, she knew it was an accomplishment to make the school team.

"I won first place in state science fair," Jenna said.

"That's wonderful. Congratulations."

Amy looked towards Cecile. Her cousin was proud of her children, that much Amy could see.

"It's thanks to you, Amy. Once you introduced Jenna to science, she's been unstoppable. She got an internship doing something chemistry at the university. Loves it to death. Me. I can't understand her anymore."

Jenna rolled her eyes, startling Amy. The girl would be a teenager now. It was a surprising change from the young girl Amy remembered.

Though the teenagers made a valiant effort at joining the adults in conversation, they were clearly bored. Amy suggested they go to the movies together to keep everyone entertained, a suggestion that was readily accepted.

They made plans to meet with Cecile and her children again the next day.

"It was nice seeing them again," Amy commented once they left.

"Yes," Dave agreed, "It's nice to see Cassie and Felix getting along with other children."

Amy had to agree on that one as well. Studious though their children might be, they did not seek out the company of people their own age.

Though two weeks seemed a long time to be on vacation, it went by in a blur. Amy spent plenty of time with Penny and Bernadette when they were not working. They indulged in their old activities, going to get manicures—though it was different when Cassie and Halley wanted to be included—and waxes—the children were too young for that—together. Of the drinking there was less, at least as far as Amy and Bernadette went. Penny could still drink a lot, though Amy observed her tolerance for alcohol was not what it used to be, a consequence of aging, but she still drank an impressive amount.

Amy was glad to see Cassie and Halley bonding together, perhaps Cassie's one and only female friend. They were similar in age so it was not surprising. She did notice Cassie became a bit jealous when Halley invited another friend to join them. That was one of the downsides to Cassie's perceived anti-social behavior in school. She did not yet know how to deal with an interloper. Amy remained unsympathetic when Cassie complained about Halley's friend taking all the attention away from her. Internally, she was jealous that Cassie had a friend problems at her age. Amy would have given anything at that age to have a friend ignoring her for another friend. It would mean she had at least two friends.

Cassie insisted on sulking and Amy forbade Dave from doing anything to make her feel better.

"I don't want to play with horses," Cassie pouted.

"Then don't play with horses," Amy said.

"I want to perform an experiment."

"Then do that."

"Halley and her friend don't want to."

Amy sighed and resisted rolling her eyes. "Listen, Cassie, you can either go play with them, or you can do your experiment by yourself, or you can pout and be miserable."

"Why won't you play with me, mummy?"

"Because I'm talking to my friends," she said, tired of mediating disputes.

"Auntie Penny, will you do an experiment with me," Cassie tried, realizing that garnering Amy's support in the matter would be futile.

"Sorry, kiddo, your mom and I are talking."

Cassie's eyes narrowed in on Bernadette next. "Please Aunt Bernadette?"

"Sure, ask me last," Bernadette muttered quietly to herself, and then, louder, she said to Cassie, "I'm talking to your mom."

"Can't you make Halley come play with me," Cassie tried.

"If you want to play with Halley then you can go play with Halley," Bernadette said.

"But I don't want to play horses."

Amy and Bernadette exchanged a look and Bernadette rolled her eyes.

She and Bernadette ended up talking shop, and a disinterested Penny retaliated by being the fun adult and taking the children out for ice cream, much to Cassie's satisfaction, leaving Amy and Bernadette alone to talk.

Though by mutual agreement the two friends never told anyone of their conversation where they doubted their life choices, it was inevitable they speak together again. "It's been awhile," Amy said when their shop talk died down.

"It has," Bernadette agreed. Though they'd already done their welcome back hugs, Amy was painfully aware of how little time they would have together in person before she left again.

Intent on making every moment count, Amy said, "I'm doing better now. I'm happy again."

"That's great," Bernadette said though Amy could tell it was hollow.

"What's troubling you?"

"I don't know exactly. But most days I find myself envious of Howie's father. A lot of the time, I just wish I could pick up and leave."

"Bernadette?" Amy gasped. She knew her friend was troubled but she did not understand the extent until now, for while her troubles became better, it seemed Bernadette's were worse.

"I never wanted to have children. And then by accident came Halley. And then another. I'm supposed to like being a mom but I hate it," Bernadette confessed. "And I really don't like having a baby around again."

Although she hated to admit it, Amy could understand a bit of what Bernadette felt. There were times she disliked being a mom, but the overall peace and joy the children gave her made up for the frustrating moments, but only just.

"Then what's stopping you from leaving?" Amy asked.

"I might not like being a mom, but I do love them and I couldn't leave Howie." Bernadette sighed and looked at Amy. "You can't tell anyone I said that," she said in a sudden panic as the weight of her words crashed down upon her, "I haven't told anyone except you."

If Bernadette wasn't desperately unhappy, Amy would be dancing for joy that she was the popular one being told the juicy gossip details that no one else was. She settled for internally gloating over her popularity.

"I promise," Amy said, "but you don't have anything to be ashamed of. You can't control how you feel."

"I guess I know that. It's just hard, you know. I'm expected to like being a mom but I don't. I cook and I clean and I drive the kids to and from school and soccer practice and daycare and I still work full time, but am I a good mom? No. Because I don't have time to sit down and help Halley with homework. Howie does nothing but play with them occasionally and he's a great dad and making a lot of effort."

Bernadette paused and fiddled with her glass of wine. "I'm sick of the double standard here."

That Amy did understand. She did not know what she would do without all of Dave's help. Certainly she would be driven crazy if she had to mother her husband as well.

"I get that," Amy said. "Have you tried talking to Howard about this?"

Bernadette rolled her eyes. Amy knew it to be a fruitless cause. Howard was forever trapped in the mindset of a child who put personal pleasure above chores.

"I do but he doesn't listen. Sometimes, I fantasize about leaving and letting Howard see how much work I do. Maybe then he would appreciate me more," Bernadette said. "Do I ever get a thank you? No. Just a 'I don't want to eat my vegetables.'"

"You may have a point there," Amy said.

"Amy!" Bernadette said, "I wouldn't actually leave. I can't."

Amy thought that the correct word was won't, not can't, but she kept that correction to herself. "Not permanently. Maybe you could take a long weekend away by yourself and leave Howard alone for a few days. See what happens."

"Do you really think that would help?" Bernadette asked, and Amy could tell she was already considering it.

"I can't hurt," Amy said, "And if you want to come visit me on your vacation . . ." she left the invitation open for Bernadette to accept or decline as she willed.

"I'll consider it," Bernadette said, "but it would be nice. Just me for a bit."

Amy knew that feeling well.

"Glad I could help," she said.

Penny returned not much later with children hyped up on sugar and it was as if their conversation never happened at all, though for Bernadette's sake Amy hoped she would find a way to resolve her issues, whatever they were.

When it came time to leave, Amy was loathe to go. The short vacation was relaxing and she did not even realize just how much she missed being around her friends all the time until she was back with them in person. Calling each other over Skype simply was not the same as seeing them in person. Were it not for the looming dark cloud otherwise known as her parents, she would already be planning a trip back for the following year.


	56. Chapter 56

If she left California feeling better, she sensed Dave felt worse. He did not say anything to her and in a typical British fashion he pretended everything was normal.

She knew it was not but without him telling her what was wrong, she had to guess; it could be anything from buying the wrong type of cereal to profound marital troubles that distressed him and she would be none the wiser.

"I said not now," Dave repeated for the third time as Amy tried to ask him a question. Her lips formed a thin line in discontentment. She needed an answer from him and he would not even listen to her question.

"Fine," she said, "but would it kill you to tell me if you made a 3000 quid purchase recently? The bank put a hold on your credit card unless you can confirm it isn't fraud."

"I don't care," Dave said. He didn't even listen to her.

She covered the microphone on her mobile. "Can you please just answer the question. I'm on the phone now."

"I'm busy. I'll talk to you later."

Sick and tired of him ignoring her, she said sarcastically, "Fine. I'll just tell the bank that you are too busy being a three year old to answer one simple question. Maybe they'll cancel your credit card while they're at it."

"That's great," Dave said distantly, and she knew he had not heard a thing she said.

"Dave!" she snapped, her hard connecting on the desk with a resounding snap that finally startled Dave out of his mood. "Have you made a 3000 quid purchase recently? Yes or no."

"Yes," Dave said.

Frustrated at how long it took to receive an answer to one easy question, she left him alone as he desired.

Their problems did not stop.

"I was thinking about redecorating the house. Make it our own," she suggested one day over dinner.

Cassie and Felix began offering suggestions, starting with a lime green living room, installing a trampoline and rock wall, and animal patterned furniture. Amy rejected their ideas, but once they were in bed for the night, she tried to reopen the conversation with Dave.

"What's wrong with the house?" he finally asked.

She controlled her breathing to keep her exasperation in check.

"Nothing's wrong with the house. I was just thinking that it's time to make this house our own. We haven't redecorated anything since we moved here." She did not have a problem with most of the house, per say, but there were certain aspects that were simply not her, being too dated and formal for her tastes. She did not understand why decorating would be such a big deal. Dave exhibited little attachment to any of the possessions in the house and she was not about to get rid of the pictures, the one part he vocalized his appreciation for.

"Fine. Do whatever you want," Dave said, his tone icy.

She did not want to fight with him yet again. It was exhausting.

"I don't want to redecorate if it will make you unhappy. I can just redo the living room for now. Get rid of the hideous wall paper, replace the carpet now that it's fraying, get rid of that awfully uncomfortable armchair. I was thinking we could work on this together. Make it our home."

"I said do whatever you want. I don't care."

Amy could not tell if he was serious or not, or whether he was just mad at her or her suggestion.

However, after trying and failing on five separate occasions to get him interested in redecorating, she gave up and started the work herself. The end result she appreciated, the style of the new living room more comfortable and less formal. It suited them better.

If Dave even noticed the changes, he said nothing. Cassie and Felix commented, but she was not concerned with whether they liked the decorations. At their age, they would think turning the living room into an ice cream bar was a stellar idea. In fact, that had been one of their suggestions on the days she had to take them with her to do the shopping.

Though he still cooked most of their dinners and took an active interest in the twins—keeping up with Cassie's daily math and physics lessons and moving to the living room to listen to Felix play the piano and violin even though he did not know enough about music to help—when it came to her he was distant.

"Are you ever going to tell me what you spent 3000 quid on?" Amy asked. She saw no new items in the house that cost that much.

"It's none of your concern," Dave snapped at her.

"I'm your wife. It is my concern," she said, sick of his attitude. It was like living with a moody teenager, and she was not supposed to put up with that for a couple of years at least.

"I don't see how. My money. My purchase. You don't need to know," Dave said.

His money and her money. A ridiculous construct they had not kept to at the beginning of their marriage and she was not about to let it start now.

"Yes I do. That's a lot of money. You should have checked with me first."

"I bought a chicken sandwich for lunch today. Do I now have to ask you if I can do that? I'm thinking about going to the Tesco to buy some crisps. That'll be all of a pound. Oh, and you didn't top up my Oyster card this month, so don't be shocked when you see a 284 quid charge."

"Dave, you're being ridiculous. I don't care about those small things. But don't you think you should at least tell me if you're going to be spending that kind of money?"

"I don't owe you anything," Dave finally snapped.

Amy felt as if a viper was squeezing her heart to dust. "I don't even know who you are anymore," she said. If she did not love him so, his callousness would not hurt, but as it was, she hated that they were constantly fighting. "Whatever I did to you, I'm sorry, alright. Just tell me what I did and I'll make it better. Please don't freeze me out." She loathed the way her voice cracked a bit at the end, hating the outward signs of distress, but she was at her wit's end. She just needed to make things right, even if it meant apologizing for a perceived slight rather than an actual wrongdoing.

"Just go away," Dave said bitterly.

She fought her tears as she left, and luckily they never fell. She could keep pretending everything was normal when she knew it wasn't.

Needing to talk to someone, she took Ann out for dinner, a blessed relief from the stressed affairs at her own home.

"You seem upset," Ann commented as Amy picked at her food but did not really eat.

"Right. Sorry," she said, "Dave and I have been having problems," she said.

"Problems?" Ann asked.

"He's freezing me out and I have no idea why. He doesn't want to redecorate. He's moody and he doesn't want to talk. He hasn't been interested in me in awhile. It's like being in bed with a sack of rice. Oh, and he spent 3000 quid and he won't tell me what it was for."

Ann looked at her sympathetically. "Amy," she said delicately, "do you think he's seeing someone."

Amy narrowed her eyes. "You think he's cheating on me," she said.

It was a possibility she had not even thought to consider. Her Dave would never do that to her. They were in a committed, monogamous relationship and had no interest in other people beyond occasionally admiring a particularly fine specimen. But that was it. They did not stray.

Yet as Ann mentioned it, she felt stupid for having missed the signs. The silence. The money spent that he refused to tell her about. His lack of interest in their life and their house. The fact that he did not want sex even when she went to great lengths to interest him, something that in their seven years together she had not once needed to do. She went so far as to brave Oxford Street on a Saturday just to buy new lingerie at the Victoria's Secret. She could have worn a ragged flannel nightgown for all the notice he gave her new purchase.

"I don't think that," Ann said, "I was just wondering if it could be a possibility."

"No. He's cheating on me. How could I be so stupid?" She didn't believe it. She couldn't. And yet what else could she think? Her apologizes when nowhere and he was more distant than ever.

By the time she got home, she was not sure how to act around him anymore. Did she confront him? But what if she was wrong? The signs were there.

She pretended everything was normal until after she put Cassie and Felix to bed, though she suspected they both knew something was going on. They were sensitive children and they had to know something was not right. For them, she would do her best to resolve things with Dave.

"I want to talk," she announced, not giving him the option which she knew he would refuse.

"I'm tired now. Can we do this later?" Dave asked wearily.

She didn't give a damn that he was tired.

"No. Are you cheating on me?" she asked bluntly, no need to gently guide him to tell her.

"How could you ask me that?" Dave retorted.

She gasped and covered her open mouth. She hadn't believed it. Not really. Not until he all but confirmed it. He was cheating on her. She was such a fool not to have seen the signs earlier. It took Ann to point them out to her but now she saw them it was obvious.

"Who is she?" she asked, the curiosity getting the better of her, but the mental image of her husband with a gorgeous, stranger tormented her. Her mother was right. She hated those three words. "No. I don't want to know. Just tell me you haven't brought her here."

"Amy, I haven't cheated on you and I can't believe you would think that."

He sounded and looked truthful but she was not sure whether to trust him or not.

"Really? Because from where I'm standing I can't think of any other reason for your behavior. You won't talk to me. You won't tell me what's wrong. We're either fighting or you ignore me. You spent 3000 quid and I still don't know what for—"

"—bloody hell will you let that go already. My mate was fired and started falling behind on his rent so I gave him enough for the next couple of weeks until he can get back up on his feet. It's a loan. He'll pay me back when he can."

"And you didn't think you should ask me before you loan your friend money? What if he doesn't pay us back?"

"Pay _me_ back, Amy. And he will. Why can't you let this go?"

"Because I thought we shared everything," Amy said, her effort to keep herself from yelling at him barely working. The hurt and anger filled every bone in her body and while she could list every anatomical part that hurt, the list would be exhaustive and take forever to recite.

"But you know what, that isn't even important right now. Please tell me what's wrong." How she hated hearing herself beg but she had no other option left open to her.

"Nothing's wrong," Dave said. Amy recoiled at the tone. Her gentle husband never sounded harsh and yet as she observed, since they got back from California she did not even know who he was.

His behavior was finally to the point where her work was suffering for it. She could not concentrate because she was too preoccupied with Dave all day to throw her full effort into her research. Her vision blurred as she looked at the data, forgetting whether she was supposed to be running a chi-squared test or an ANOVA, and flashes of arguments spiraled by on repeat. His words, or lack thereof, rang in her ears.

"Then why don't you want to have sex anymore?" Amy snapped.

"Seriously? That's what you want to talk about. We haven't had sex in a while. So what?"

"In a while? It's been three months, before we went to California."

"That's what this is about, Amy. Sex. So what if it's been three months. We've gone without before."

"For a couple of days. Not months."

They were, by that point, standing face to face, and no matter how much she squared her shoulders and straightened her spine Dave would still tower over her. Yet she did not feel intimidated by his height. She felt powerful. She felt lustful. She was aroused and she did not even know why. They were arguing. She should be upset.

His lips met her and it was like kissing fire. Electricity danced between every point of contact, up and down the full length of her body pressed firmly into his.

She pushed him down onto the bed and straddled him. After everything she still wanted him. She did not think her body would ever not want him. Sparks followed everywhere his hands went, and with the ease of practice she was very soon unclothed.

His lips claimed hers, and she felt a passion for him that had never been present before. Not in the early days when he timidly tasted her lips in exploration. Not as they did later on, in wonder, reverence, or worship. Not in comfort and familiarity. It was entirely different, far more primal than ever before. He nibbled at her lip, creating a little tingle of pain as overwhelming pleasure overcame her. It wasn't love. It was possession.

"You want sex. Fine," Dave growled.

His words were enough to bring reality crashing down upon her. She jumped off him, looking down at him with horror. "We can't do this now. Not like this," she said. This anger was not what she wanted. It was arousing and just moments before she felt the evidence of his excitement, but she did not want the physical affection without the emotional connection. She needed every part of him, not just the physical.

"What I do is never enough for you, is it Amy?" Dave snarled, confirming to her that she made the right decision.

"Get out," she said, tired of dealing with him and his attitude.

"What?" Dave asked.

"I said get out of our bedroom. I can't stand the sight of you."

"I assure you the feeling is mutual." Dave put on his clothes and stormed out of the room, leaving her standing there naked.

She shivered in the cool air until she roused herself to cuddle under the covers; for the first time in a long while she laid in their bed alone. Even though they'd been fighting a lot and he was moody, they still slept in the same bed.

Even though he was not interested in sex and was as good as a lump next to her, he was a warm lump. Now there was nothing but cold sheets under her fingertips and an insufficient duvet. For the first autumn night in years she had to close the window to keep out the chill.

* * *

EllieMoon: If you PM me, I'd be happy to answer your question, but otherwise I don't want to give out spoilers.


	57. Chapter 57

Amy received a call from an unknown number. Answering it, she said, "Hello?"

"Hi. It's Bernadette," a high pitched voice squeaked from the other side.

Amy pulled the phone away from her ear to see it was a +44 number. Strange. "Hi Bernadette."

"Hi. I need your address," the short yet scary girl snapped.

Amy gave it to her, and after she did she asked the reason why.

"I need a place to stay tonight. By the way, I just got to the airport."

"You're here now?" Amy asked, surprised that Bernadette gave her no notice of her arrival, or even her plans to follow up on Amy's offer to visit her.

"Yes. Catch up."

Not good. With Dave permanently sleeping in the guest room, the only place for Bernadette would be Beth's old room, but knowing her friend was observant, her marital problems would soon be apparent.

"There's a key buried in the plant at two o'clock," Amy said so Bernadette could let herself into the house while Amy was at work.

"Good to know," Bernadette said.

When Amy arrived home, she was glad Dave was not back yet. He would be coming home shortly with the twins.

"What brings you here?" Amy asked as she hugged Bernadette. She did not think her friend would take her advice to run away so literally. "You're welcome, of course. But why are you here?"

"You know how you said going away for a bit would make Howie appreciate me more," Bernadette said.

"Yes," Amy hedged, not knowing where she was going.

"Well, I have a lot of vacation time so took three months off work. I've never been to London before, so I thought why not."

"You're going to be here for three months?" Amy asked. She did offer her house to Bernadette, but she did not intend for it to be for the long a stretch. A week or two at most.

"Don't be absurd," Bernadette said, "I'll only be here for a week. I'm going to do everything I wanted to do. After this I'm going to Amsterdam and Prague. I haven't planned much beyond that. I'm going where I want."

"Ummm, alright then," Amy said.

They hung up, as Amy's lunch break was nearly over.

She picked the twins up from school and sought out Dave. He seemed surprised to see her standing in the entryway to the guest room where he was was silently on his laptop.

She could see the _what do you want?_ look on his face.

"Bernadette's staying with us," she announced.

"I know. I ran into her earlier," he said stiffly.

"I would have told you first, but she surprised me today. I had no idea she was coming."

"Fine."

"Are you alright with her staying here?"

He faced away from her.

"Do whatever you want."

"She'll be here for a week."

No response.

Amy bit her lip in frustration.

She sought out Cassie and Felix next and told them Bernadette would be visiting them for a week.

Thus, when Bernadette arrived back at the house late that night, and despite the fact that she'd already put Cassie and Felix to bed, the slight noise her friend made upon entering the house roused the twins.

"Aunt Bernie! Aunt Bernie!" The called out, not quite in unison, as they ran at her.

"Hello," Bernadette slurred.

Amy laughed as she was clearly drunk. "I see you found the pubs already."

"Yup."

With the excitement over Bernadette's visit, it was difficult to settle the twins enough to go to bed again, and she only succeeded by promising them an outing with Bernadette over the weekend.

"We should go to the zoo," Felix suggested.

"I've already been to the zoo. Is there something else you would like to do?" Amy was glad it was Bernadette rejecting the idea instead of her. Had she been the one to turn them down, there would have been an argument, but when it was Bernadette, Cassie and Felix cheerfully moved on from the idea.

"M and m's," Cassie said.

"M and m's?" Bernadette echoed.

"Yes. M and m's. You'll love it!"

"M & M world," Amy clarified, "In other words, an overly crowded store that sells the exact same m and m's you can find in the supermarket."

"Sounds fun," Bernadette agreed.

As promised, Bernadette only stayed a week. Dave did not question her presence in their house. In fact, his principle of ignoring Amy except when they were acting around the kids held firm when it came to Bernadette. For the most part, he did not even acknowledge she was in the house.

The day before Bernadette left, she sat Amy down.

"Is everything alright with you and Dave?" she asked.

"No," Amy said, the time for disguise over. Bernadette was one of her closest friends and she wanted her to know the truth. "We've been fighting a lot ever since we got back from California. I have no clue what happened," she admitted. "But how did you know? I thought we hid it from you."

Bernadette rolled her eyes. "You didn't think I would notice that the two of you don't sleep in the same bedroom? What is really going on between you?"

"I have no idea," Amy admitted. "I thought he was cheating on me for a while."

"That bastard," Bernadette cursed, and while Amy was grateful for the solidarity, it offered no help whatsoever.

"He's really not. He's not cheating on me. I know that now. But we fight all the time and he's miserable to be around. I'm not sure how much more I can handle," Amy confessed, glad to get the burden off her chest. Talking to Ann was not the same as talking to Bernadette.

"And let's talk about you. How did Howard react when you told him you were going away for a couple of months?"

"He didn't," Bernadette said, and Amy could hear the hurt. "I've never traveled by myself before. I think I'm going to like it."

"Good for you," Amy said, "but are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to do something risky."

"I'll be fine," Bernadette assured her. Amy gave her a lift to Gatwick airport as it was the least she could do. Beyond that, Bernadette wanted to be on her own and Amy would respect her wishes.

A couple of weeks later, while she was talking to Penny, she inadvertently brought up Bernadette.

"Have you heard from her at all?" Amy asked.

"Yes," Penny said.

"How's she doing?"

"Great. Like, really great." Penny then recounted al the places Bernadette went. After spending two months in Europe, she went to Southeast Asia. According to Penny, she was currently in Thailand.

"That's quite a trip," Amy commented, to which Penny shrugged.

"I think it's good for her. She seems a lot happier when we talk. I'm beginning to think she's been unhappy for a long time and hiding it."

"She was unhappy," Amy finally admitted. "We spoke about it a couple of times. I'm glad she's doing better. But how is Howard? Is he doing alright."

"Surprisingly, yes. When Bernadette left with strict orders to Raj and Stuart to not help him, I didn't think he could handle it."

"That's not surprising," Amy said. "And Raj and Stuart really aren't helping?"

Penny laughed. "You know Bernadette. All of five foot and she's a scary little thing. You know she isn't technically on vacation but no one managed to tell her she couldn't take three months off. She'd be fired by now for not showing up but no one is brave enough to tell her," Penny said. Amy laughed. That was so like Bernadette. "I don't know what she said to Raj and Stuart, but they are afraid to help Howard, like she'd somehow know."

"And how is Howard doing?"

Penny then relayed Howard's flailing at finally being forced to be an adult. With no one around to take care of him, he was responsible for the cooking and the cleaning and taking care of the children. He was not used to giving up his video game time to help Halley with her homework and to drive the children to and from school, daycare, and extracurriculars. It was even harder with a baby still needing constant attention. He finally learned how to change a diaper. Yet that was exactly what he was forced to do in Bernadette's absence. After a week of near starvation as he refused to do anything, he finally had to man up and be an adult.

"He told me he appreciates Bernadette," Penny said.

Amy was in shock. She gave the advice to Bernadette almost as a joke, but after being gone for months, it was working. Howard did appreciate his wife more. If he managed to keep it up when Bernadette returned, her friend might feel a bit less unhappy with her life.

"That's great," Amy said. "Do you think he'll be able to keep sane for one more month?"

"We'll see," Penny said, "but I think so."

There was a pause. "Speaking of relationships, Bernadette mentioned you and Dave were fighting."

Amy sighed. She did not want to go down that rabbit hole yet it appeared they were. "We're not so much fighting as ignoring each other."

"What happened?"

Amy explained everything. The small changes that started when they returned from California and the way the small changes snowballed into something much larger. She admitted they'd slept in separate bedrooms for almost three months and barely talked. Cassie and Felix were worried, she could tell, and it was reflected in their grades.

Their teacher even called to ask if everything was alright at home because it was affecting the children. She resolved to do better yet she was not sure there was much she could do.

"And what about you? How are you doing?" Amy finally thought to ask, having realized she'd spent far too much time speaking of herself and Bernadette she'd neglected to catch up with her best friend.

"Same old, same old," Penny said with an air of nonchalance. "I hate my job. Leonard doesn't want me to quit. The usual."

"At least you're paying off your debt," Amy tried to console her. How miserable would she be if she hated her job? Luckily for her she loved her work.

"Not you too," Penny grumbled. "Look, I know I'm doing the smart thing, but I still hate it."

"I'm so sorry," Amy sympathized. "Have you heard anything about your adoption?"

"We're still on the list, so fingers crossed," Penny said.


	58. Chapter 58

After talking to Penny, Amy sought Dave out. "Can we talk?" she asked.

Dave turned towards her. "What do you want?"

Bluntness was her strong suit and her fortitude proved it.

"What is going to happen to us? Are we getting divorced?"

"No," Dave said.

"Then are we back together?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know," Dave said.

She hated noncommittal and vague. It would get them no where and all that would come of it was hurt.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. For once she wanted him to come up with an answer. She wanted him to figure something out because no matter how hard she tried, she failed. It was time for him to do something for their relationship if they were still going to have one.

Even though she wanted to hate him for the way he treated her recently she still loved him. She could not think the worst of him. Yet being unable to communicate there was no where for them to go and they remained in tormented limbo.

"I'm going to stay in a hotel for a couple of nights," Dave finally said.

He packed his bag and left. Cassie and Felix were distraught, asking her questions she did not have the answers for. All she could do was assure them that no matter what happened between her and Dave, their lives would not be disrupted. She owed them that much.

"Mum?" Felix asked her hesitantly.

"Yes," Amy said, most of her concentration on the stovetop to avoid burning their dinner.

"Where's dad?"

"He's at a hotel," Amy said. She couldn't lie to her children. When they found out, it would only make matters worse.

"Why?"

"Because he just is."

Without Amy noticing, Cassie joined them as well.

"But he promised me he'd teach me about electric fields," Cassie said.

Amy sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sure he'll teach it to you later."

"You're stupid," Felix said suddenly and stuck his tongue out at his sister.

"Am not," Cassie protested in kind.

"Felix, that wasn't nice," Amy snapped. "Apologize to your sister."

"Not gonna," Felix said.

"Not going to," Cassie corrected.

"Felix, apologize. You can't call your sister stupid," Amy said.

"But she is being stupid."

"Felix!" She raised her voice a bit to get her point across.

"Well it's true," Felix defended himself. "Dad isn't here and all she cares about is stupid physics."

"Physics isn't stupid."

"Is too. You don't care that dad isn't here! I hate you!"

"Felix," Amy snapped, but before she could say anything else, he ran out of the room and she could hear the discordant sounds of the piano as he bashed out chords without care for their harmony.

"But I do care," Cassie said, so quietly Amy almost could not hear her over the sounds of frying grease and the piano.

Amy looked up, and saw Cassie already in tears. Resisting the urge to curse, she turned down the temperature on the stove and covered the pan.

"I know you do, sweetheart. I know you do," Amy said, hugging Cassie. "Felix shouldn't have said that."

She waited for her daughter to pull away from a hug as she normally did, but instead Cassie held onto her tighter.

"I don't want you and daddy to get divorced."

Daddy. That was a word Cassie hadn't said in awhile.

"Your dad and I have a disagreement. That's all. You don't need to worry about it."

Only they did. How could they not when their entire life was changing and she couldn't even make it better?

Amy felt a wet patch on her shoulder from where Cassie's tears soaked through, and she began to sing quietly. It soothed Cassie a little, and once the sobs stopped, Amy extracted herself to go check up on her son.

He was still playing the piano, though he was attacking it with less fury than before. Rather than say anything, she sat on the edge of the bench and looked over the music he played, and as she caught up to him, she began to harmonize.

Felix seemed startled by her accompaniment, but rather than falter, he continued until they reached the end of the piece.

"I miss dad," Felix said hollowly once they finished.

"I know. He'll be back soon."

That lie was easier to get out. She did not know. She'd tried to call and text and email him, but he'd ignored her. She hated that. Were it just herself, it would be easier to handle, but seeing her children hurting was insupportable.

"It hurts."

"I know it hurts." Remembering earlier, she sighed. "However, that doesn't mean you can insult me or your sister."

Felix did not say anything, so Amy continued, "You hurt her. Can you please come and apologize now?"

"Don't want to."

"I know."

Felix looked up at her, and he seemed so small, his feet swinging off the end of the bench as he was not yet tall enough for them to reach the floor.

"Alright," Felix reluctantly agreed, breaking eye contact.

She followed him back to the kitchen, where Cassie was still sitting, almost as a statue.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"S'alright," Cassie responded in turn.

"Maybe . . . maybe I could learn physics with you?" Felix hinted. He looked at her for guidance, and she inclined her head, proud of him for apologizing. Even if she did have to tell him to multiple times.

"I'd like that," Cassie agreed.

Amy watched as the two of them promptly hurried off, and she was forced to shake her head and be bewildered at the bond between siblings. One moment they could be at each other's throats and the next it was as if nothing happened.

If she thought sleeping in a bed alone was cold and cruel, knowing Dave was not in the house was even worse. It had been one day and she felt like she was a guest in a stranger's house, out of place and unwanted. She tiptoed around the house she had all to herself and it felt downright wrong. She stayed late at work so that the children would have plenty of time with their father who had picked them up from school, as she suspected he would make himself scarce the moment she returned home.

"So he moved out?" Ann asked her at lunch.

"Temporarily," Amy said "He went to a hotel two days ago."

"It sounds bad," Ann said.

"It is," Amy agreed. There was not much to say. She changed the conversation to more pleasant topics. She asked Ann about her life because she preferred it to the reality of her own.

"Let me get this," Amy said when she had an incoming call.

Ann distracted herself while Amy answered the call.

"Hello."

"Hello Amy."

She froze as she heard Dave's voice. When was the last time he called her? She could no longer recall.

"Dave," she replied in turn, and she saw Anne's eyes widen in surprise. She wondered why he called her. Why she hadn't thought to check the number before answering? "What's going on?" she asked when he remained quiet.

"I . . . well this is a bit embarrassing to admit. I slipped in puddle and hit my head."

Amy wondered what that had to do with her.

"Anyways, I went to the doctor and it seems I have sustained a mild concussion, so if it is not a bother I am supposed to have someone—"

"—Wait," Amy interrupted, catching up on what he had just said. "You have a concussion? Are you alright?"

Her heard thumped wildly in her chest and she felt cold from fear. He couldn't be that badly hurt. He called her after all. Yet if he was completely fine, why was he calling her after spending so long ignoring her?

"I'm fine. But the physician said I need to be woken up every two hours tonight, and while I have been a complete and total ass and would understand if you want nothing to do with me, if it is not too great an imposition I was wondering, well hoping really—"

"—Get to the point," Amy said warningly, her patience wearing thin.

"That I could come home tonight."

As he said that, staying apart from him felt silly all of a sudden. She could have worked harder to stop fighting with him. She could have tried to resolve their issues rather than pushing him away. She wouldn't have the pain of him nervously asking if he could come home. If she wanted him back. She loathed sleeping alone at night. She missed talking to him.

Because the simple answer was, despite everything, she did want him back. Having him out of the house for two nights, close yet far, was just wrong.

She still felt the panic wondering if he was alright, and she knew that after hearing the word concussion, no amount of reassurances on his part would convince her that he was alright and she could stop worrying until she could confirm in person that he was, in fact, alright.

"Yes. Of course," she replied immediately, excitement creeping into her tone.

Cassie and Felix fretted when she explained to them what a concussion was, and to not be too loud when their father got home. A key turned in the lock and Dave let himself in. Cassie and Felix fawned over him, glad to see him home with his suitcase, and Amy's own heart thumped wildly knowing he was alright.

"You're here," she commented while Cassie and Felix tried to monopolize their dad's attention.

Though he hugged them, all his focus was on her. She could tell he was rattled. It was something a wife would know, even if to the outside world they incapable of anything but fighting.

"Why don't you go do your homework," Amy suggested. She wanted a moment alone with her husband.

The twins both protested but it was Dave who sent them to their rooms to study.

She stood awkwardly, not sure what to say or do. Amy resisted the impulse to hug and kiss him as a reminder that he was, in fact, safely home. He didn't look injured.

"Can we talk?" Dave asked.

Amy bit her lip, unsure the answer. Her heart knew what it wanted and answered automatically. "Yes."

They faced each other. Strange how a familiar face could look strange and new under the harsh lights.

"I've missed you," he said at last.

"I've missed you too." Stubbornly, she did not say more. She missed him but she also blamed him for their rift. She was just fine, until he started getting moody and picking fights with her. She was tired of fighting. Done with fighting. She did not know when or where they went wrong but they had.

"I guess you're wondering why." He gestured around him and Amy knew what he meant.

"Yes."

He sighed. "It wasn't one thing, really. Just your father said . . . and I wondered . . . I was jealous, Amy."

She looked at him, puzzled. She was there at her parent's house. She heard every ounce of vitriol her mother spewed and fought against her.

"Jealous of what?" she asked, needing to know yet not certain she wanted to all at the same time.

"It will sound foolish now, but of Sheldon." She inhaled deeply. They had not even spoken of him in years. She had not thought of him in the longest time. What Sheldon had to do with their fight she could scare imagine.

"What about him?" she asked firmly, giving nothing of her inner turmoil away. A small part of her felt victorious at the way her question made Dave squirm, yet a larger part of her just felt sad. That was the state their marriage was reduced to. They could not speak to each other. He did not deserve to know what she was feeling.

"When your parents started talking about how he would have been better for you, I just wondered if they were right."

Amy gasped. She defended Dave to her mother, assured him she preferred him, yet that was where his jealousy came from, the arguments between them. She could scarce believe it.

"You should know I don't think that. I love you." The words tasted unfamiliar on her lips though she'd said them to him a million times before. She blinked rapidly to center herself, and focused her attention on him once more.

"How could I know, Amy? We've never talked about it. Not once in eight years. How was I supposed to know?"

"How dare you try to blame this on me." Indignation rose and she felt the anger coming back at the same time she didn't want to fight with him. Not anymore.

"Look, Amy, I'm not trying to blame this on you."

"It sure sounds like it."

"I love you. Do you know how much it hurt me watching you be miserable when we first moved here? Hell, you've been miserable more often than not ever since we moved here."

Not matter her indignation, her anger, she couldn't argue with him on that point. It was true, of course. She'd spent a lot of time being unhappy, and while she thought she'd concealed it well, apparently she hadn't, or he would never have picked up on it.

"I didn't want to be miserable," Amy acknowledged quietly.

"I thought that if I could let you go, then maybe you would be happy again."

"I was happy with you."

He gave her a look that said he knew otherwise.

"You were unhappy for a really long time and I had no idea how to fix it. I've been trying for years to make you happy and you're still miserable."

"You thought leaving me would make me happy? I love _you_ ," she said vehemently.

"I know that too," Dave admitted, "It's just . . ." he paused and Amy waited patiently for him to continue speaking, ". . . You know I've always admired him. His work. He's smarter than me."

"Dave," Amy tried to comfort him, but he wanted to say his piece.

"Don't deny it. He is smarter than me. I looked up to him for the longest time, and realizing you dated him, I guess I just felt like I would always be second place."

Amy stared at him for a while, unblinking. Seven years they were married and yet she knew none of that. Never once had he mentioned it, and it must be a longstanding problem. Perhaps even when they were still dating.

"How long have you felt that way?" she asked, dreading the answer but needing it all the same.

"It's been so long I don't even remember when it started," Dave admitted.

It was as she thought. "I choose you. Why would you doubt that?"

As she voiced her thoughts aloud, Dave appeared ashamed of himself. She was upset too, but not at him anymore. At herself. She started into their relationship knowing he admired her ex to an unhealthy degree, and over the years they never spoke about it, their agreement to be silent on the subject. Now, she realized how hurt he was by it, a problem simmering under the surface that they'd ignored until it erupted.

She should have figured it out earlier, when they first started having the small little arguments that spiraled into much more.

When they should have talked, they remained silent and allowed the problem to fester. Until now.

"Because if I was you, I think I might have chosen differently."

It was as if a knife was plunged into her heart. She took control of her breathing to keep her hurt in check. She would not cry. Not in front of him. Not now. She was strong and would prove it.

"He asked me to marry him," Amy said, "after I broke up with him. He kept coming back. He promised me everything I wanted. Marriage. Children. Everything. But I knew he didn't really want it. He was selfish. Still is I imagine. Then I met you and it was rocky at first, but we wanted the same things in life. We got along well. We rarely fought. Until now." She looked beseechingly at him, allowing him to take over the conversation.

"You never told me that," Dave said.

Amy shrugged. "You never asked." That didn't make things right on either one of their parts, yet there it was. The truth out in the open at last and she was unsure how they could move forward, but she knew she wanted to.

"I want to try again," Amy said. "At us. I want to start over."

"Me too," Dave said.

"I'm still mad at you," she said.

"I figured."

"But I get it. You were trying to protect both of us by being distant."

"I was. But I am sorry."

"You shouldn't have kept your feelings a secret from me. If you have a problem, I need to know."

"I know."

She looked up imploringly at me. "Promise me no more secrets."

"No more secrets."

He sounded sincere. She believed him.

"That goes for you too, Amy," Dave said at last.

"I don't—"

"—Lies of omission are still lies." He had her on that one.

"I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

"Not a chance."

"Alright. No more secrets," she relented as well.

They stared at each other, and he hugged her. She rested her head against his chest, very aware of how much taller than her he was.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner? Why let us fight?" she asked, still snuggled against his chest. She could barely feel the slight but steady thump of his heartbeat.

She felt as his heartbeat sped up and he took deep breaths and she allowed herself to be comforted by the closeness she forgot she craved.

"It was easier. Less painful. Or I thought it would be less painful. Being separated from you; that is painful."

"I agree," Amy said. As they drifted apart, she'd felt the isolation acutely. She could be constantly surrounded by people and yet without him to talk to she felt lonely. Love was a strange entity, and no matter how much time or energy she devoted to it's study she doubted she would ever really understand it, even for one of her caliber. Oh, she could list off the neurotransmitters involved, the process by which it developed, and yet there seemed to be an intangible aspected she could not grasp or quantify.

She kissed him and it was like coming home, that feeling of blissful relaxation. Not passion or overwhelming arousal but relaxation and comfort and the sense that everything was right.

"Not that I'm complaining," Dave said when he broke the kiss, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "but I think we have an audience."

Amy turned her head and saw Cassie and Felix staring at them, audibly whispering to each other. "It appears we do," she agreed.

"Mum?" Cassie asked.

"Yes, sweetheart," Amy said.

"This means you and daddy aren't getting divorced, right?"

"Of course not," Amy hastily assured them, looking between Dave and the children to see the joy in the later. "We were just having a disagreement, but it's over now. Nothing more. That happens sometimes. I'm sorry you had to see it."Usually they tried to keep their fights behind closed doors, but pretending everything was perfect had not worked.

"You aren't leaving again, are you daddy?" Felix asked.

"I'm here to stay," Dave responded.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Pinky swear," Felix said, holding out his hand. It was something Halley taught him.

"Pinky swear," Dave parroted, extending his own hand.

"Me too. Me too," Cassie clamored to be included.

"Pinky swear," Dave said to her as well, extracting his hand from Felix's grasp to give it to her.

"It's late. You should be in bed," Amy said when she noticed the time on the clock.

Felix grumbled as he followed Cassie upstairs, and left alone, Amy kissed Dave again, aware of just how close they came to actually separating as the children feared.

"We're good?" Dave asked.

"We're good," she agreed, "but there is one thing."

"Anything."

"Next time, if you ever have doubts, I want you to tell me. Promise?"

"Promise," Dave agreed, also aware of how close they came to letting their fight escalate to the point it could not be repaired, "I would like you to promise the same."

It was a reasonable request and one to which Amy readily agreed.

"Shall we go to bed?" Amy asked after tucking in the kids.

Dave easily agreed and they went to their bedroom. She did not realize how lonely it was without him in it. The feeling of rightness crept over her again. It was silly of her not to confront him sooner. He was wrong to allow his jealousy to overrule his better judgement and pick fights with her without telling her why.

"I missed this," Amy said as they cuddled together, the post-coital exhaustion rapidly creeping up on her. She struggled to keep her eyes open, afraid that if she slept all their progress would disappear as if it had never been. It was an irrational fear yet one she could not shake all the same.

"I missed you," Dave said.

"Are you still jealous?" she asked, for though they reconciled, that one point was still vague to her.

Dave sighed. "I'd be lying if I said no," he admitted, and Amy felt a pang in her chest. Of what she could not tell. "But I know you choose me, and that'll help. It'll just take time. I promise."

"It isn't rational to be jealous over someone I haven't even thought about in years," she told him. While he may not be privy to her every thought, she wanted to assure him that the past was firmly in the past. She thought her past was buried far behind her until they talked, but that made her wonder if his past was not as forgotten as she supposed.

"It's as rational as pi," Dave joked.

Amy chuckled. "Yes. But . . . does your jealousy have anything to do with your ex-wife?"

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Dave said, "and no, my jealousy is not directly motivated by that. Maybe a part of me is afraid you'll leave me for someone better."

"I'm not her," Amy said, "and I wouldn't do that to you."

She meant it. Honest to a fault, she was incapable of lying. Oh, she tried to lie but it was obvious to everyone when she attempted it. She was more likely to offend someone with the truth that with being caught out in a lie.

"Not even when we were separated?" Dave asked.

She controlled her breathing to keep the anger at bay. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.

Dave squirmed beside her and she took some joy in his torment.

"Did you start seeing anyone else? I was such an ass to you, I wouldn't blame you if you did," Dave said again.

While she understood the question the first time around, her anger came from the fact that he would even believe her capable of cheating, yet in the spirit of honesty she recently promised him, she said, "The thought didn't even cross my mind. I wouldn't do that to you. Not while we're married. And I love you. I wasn't interested in anyone else."

Dave did not comment on her response beyond tightening his grip on her hand slightly. As they lay in silence, she wondered why he asked. "Did you start seeing someone else?" she asked. If the answer was yes, she knew she would be devastated.

"No," Dave said, "like you said, I wouldn't do that to you and I'm not interested in anyone else."

"Good," Amy agreed, her heartbeat calming.

They regained the equilibrium previously missing from their lives and the good it did helped more than just her. Dave got a promotion and a much desired pay raise. Amy stopped receiving call's from Felix's teachers telling her he was acting up in class despite her best efforts to get him to behave. Cassie did not appear visibly different but she did seem less stressed out than she was before. As far as Amy herself was concerned, she was much happier now she reconciled with her husband.

In the wake of the aftermath of visiting their friends and her family in California, however, they both agreed that they would not be going back to vacation there ever again. It created more problems than it was worth. Any previous doubts about staying put in London instead of returning to their old home in California was gone. The greater the distance from her family it appeared the stronger their relationship and the better it was for their children.

However, she did notice that in the aftermath of their fight, Dave was more attentive than before, almost overcompensating for the difficulties caused by their lack of communication by telling her to much. She had what she wanted; she no longer felt like he was holding back with her.

"You look good," she commented when she saw him wearing his robes. She'd never seen him wearing them before, and oh my did they look good on him. "What's the special occasion?"

"Graduation ceremony. I told you about it last week," he said absently. "I have to go. My Uber is here."

"Wait," she said. He paused. "Your hood is crooked," she said, and fiddled with it until it was exactly symmetrical.

Dave glanced down at his phone, and Amy resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"And one more thing," she said.

"What?" He sounded impatient.

"Leave those on when you get back."

Dave looked at her strangely.

"Any particular reason?"

She rose on her tiptoes so her mouth was as close to his ear as she could reach while she whispered, "Because you look extremely fuckable right now."

Dave swallowed audibly. "Bloody hell, woman. The things you do to me."

Amy lightly pecked his lips and pushed him away. "Now go," she said, "Your Uber is waiting."

* * *

Guest: Thanks! I'm so glad you like my stories. I went back to that chapter and as far as I can tell it is in English. Just out of curiosity, what language does it look like?


	59. Chapter 59

"Howard?" Amy questioned when she saw his face over Skype instead of Bernadette as she was expecting. "Do we talk?" She tried to remember the last time they spoke one-on-one and it was during Raj's scavenger hunt where they planned to go to a Neil Diamond concert.

"I can't believe you would do that to me. Penny told me everything."

"Told you what?" Amy asked, confused. Howard, for his part, looked furious.

"About what you said to Bernadette about leaving."

Amy glanced at the calendar. Over three months since Bernadette showed up unexpectedly in London. "But isn't she back by now? It's been three months," Amy said.

"Yes, well, apparently finding herself is going so well that she sent me an email saying she would be gone another three. Now she's going to South Africa and Morocco and who knows where else. I can't believe you would tell her to leave like that."

Amy was shocked at the news. When she suggested Bernadette go away for a bit, she was thinking a week or two. Certainly not three months and definitely not six.

"I'm sorry, Howard. I just thought Bernadette should take a week or two to herself. I didn't know she'd be away for that long."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have thought of that before you gave her that advice."

She understood Howard was mad at her and were their positions reversed she would feel the same, but she would not let him attack her like that. "I'm sorry she took my advice out of proportion, but leaving was her choice."

"You don't get it, do you," Howard said. Amy did feel slightly guilty but on the whole she couldn't. From what Penny said, Howard was growing as a person and Bernadette was happy. Her friend would go home eventually. She needed time. Amy could understand that.

"There's nothing to get. Bernadette is finding herself."

"She could have found herself a little closer to home." It was hard for Amy to be sure over the fuzzy video screen but it looked like Howard was crying.

"Are you alright?" she asked, now more worried about him than indignant at the accusations.

"My wife left and the children want their mother. How do you think I'm feeling?" Howard snarked.

She did not recoil at his harsh tone. She did understand where he was coming from.

"You're upset because when your father left he never came back," Amy observed. It was rather obvious. "But that isn't going to happen with Bernadette. She loves you and she'll be back when she's ready."

"You don't know that," Howard cried.

"I do," Amy said. "Trust me. She'll be back."

Howard was still upset with her when they ended their call but she felt she made some progress with him. From the information she did manage to learn, he was finally taking responsibility for his family. When Bernadette did return, hopefully her problems with Howard would be resolved.

"Who was that?" Dave asked her.

"Howard. He's mad at me over the whole Bernadette thing. She's decided to extend her trip."

"You did encourage her to leave," Dave said.

Amy sighed, knowing he was right. "It wasn't my intention for her to leave for so long, but I think it'll be good for her to get away for a bit."

"Yes. Distance does help put things into perspective," Dave said bitterly.

Back to the self reprimands then.

"I don't blame you for what happened between us," she said, knowing they were no longer talking about Howard and Bernadette.

"How can you not?" Dave asked, "I behaved abysmally towards you."

"And I could have confronted you sooner. We both made mistakes but it's in the past. All that matters is I love you."

"I love you too," he said.

"And I think our relationship is better now we dont' keep secrets," Amy said.

Dave agreed.

However, that was not to be the end of the Bernadette fiasco. About a year after the short, sweet, vicious blond made her first appearance in London, she was back. Amy screamed a bit as Bernadette let herself into the house with the spare key buried in the plant.

"Bernadette. What are you doing here?" Amy exclaimed. She greeted her friend right away and noticed Bernadette looked weary. She had not spoken to her in months the last time they Skyped.

Bernadette noticed Dave standing behind her and looked meaningfully at Amy. "We reconciled," Amy said, and it was explanation enough for Bernadette. She was sure she would be grilled on the events later, but for now, Bernadette herself looked in need of comfort.

"I think I messed up big time," Bernadette said.

Amy sat her down while Dave went to make them coffee of the Irish variety. They both could use a bit of liquid fortitude for the upcoming conversation.

"How?" Amy asked, "Is Howard mad at you? He's pissed at me."

Bernadette winced. Right. It was best not to talk about herself when her friend needed her more. At a loss as to how to cheer Bernadette up, Amy simply listened.

"I wasn't going to be gone for a year, but then my three months were up and I wasn't ready to go back so I quit my job and stayed away another three months and I still wasn't ready. Then yesterday I was in Istanbul and it just hit me. I miss them."

"Miss who?"

"Howie and the kids. It's been a year since I saw them. The kids must be so different. I wonder if my youngest even remembers me."

"Bernadette, I know they'll welcome you back," Amy said.

"But how can I face them?" Bernadette asked, her voice soft and somber, unusually low pitched. "I abandoned them. I only meant to be away for a short time by I was having such a good time without the kids I did not want it to end. It's been a year now, Amy. I'm not sure they want me to come back anymore."

"I think they do," Amy said, "maybe you did mess up, but tell me, were you unhappy?"

Bernadette sighed. "That's just it. For the first time in a long while I felt happy. And then I was just lonely. I have to go back but I'm worried they'll hate me."

"They might," Amy said. She could not image what Howard and Halley especially went through while Bernadette went off finding herself, but it must have been hard on them. "But you have to try, don't you. See if you can't fix things."

"That's just it," Bernadette said, "I'm not sure if I want to fix things. I like not having to be a mother. I never wanted children but then they just happened and Howie was so excited. I'm a terrible person."

"No you're not," Amy hastily assured her. Whatever Bernadette was, she was not a horrible person or mother. Maybe she had made a mistake, maybe she hadn't. It wasn't Amy's place to judge. If anyone needed support and encouragement it was Bernadette.

"I am," Bernadette said. "But you're right. I do need to go back. I need to find a job."

On that score Amy could correct her. "You've been fired all right, even before you resigned, but I have it on good authority from Penny that HR is so afraid of you they'll give you your job back if you ask for it."

"That's something, I suppose. I wouldn't want Howie to be making more than me. I'd never live that one down."

Bernadette was never going to live down her year of finding herself but Amy kept that comment to herself. It would only hurt.

"Tell me about where you've been and what you've been doing," Amy tried to distract her.

It worked. Bernadette regaled her with her adventures, some more memorable than others, and often accompanied by a multitude of pictures.

Bernadette did not stay in London long. Though she was welcome to stay with Amy and Dave for however long she needed, Bernadette wanted to get back. Though her stay was brief, Amy saw small changes in her. For one she appeared to be at peace with herself. Ambivalent towards the world in general, but the signs of her internal struggles were gone. Something in her changed over the last year and Amy suspected it would be for the best.

"Thank you for everything, Amy," Bernadette said as Amy dropped her off at the airport.

"You're welcome, Bernadette," Amy said.

"She seems different," Dave observed.

"She is," Amy agreed. And that was that.

She thought about Bernadette a bit, wondering what happened and if she was alright.

Penny and Bernadette called her and she eagerly answered. "Howie and I are better," Bernadette said though she seemed sad. "He said he can't trust me, but we're back together. It's a start," she said.

"That's good," Amy said, relieved to her Bernadette's life was not entirely in shambles. If it were, she would feel guilty for her advice, no matter how unintentional Bernadette's reaction to it was.

"He helps around the house now. You were right about that part," Bernadette said, "but I am worried he'll slip back into his old habits. I don't think I could live through that again."

"Only time will tell," Amy advised her. As was her specialty, Penny then managed to distract them with talk of clothes and reality tv shows neither Amy nor Bernadette cared about but it was easy to listen to Penny prattle on about her interests, and when the blond goddess herself spoke, it was hard not to care about what she said.

Life returned to normal. Her relationship with Dave was stronger than ever and as their relationship repaired, so too did Cassie and Felix excel again. Their teachers commented on their sudden progress, and Amy knew it was because their problems at home were resolved. Cassie, not challenged enough through her school, enrolled in physics seminars through a college, easily the youngest student there. Her interest sustained her even as her mathematical abilities were sub par. Amy and Dave, but Dave especially, did their best to teach her but it was a lot of math in a compressed time frame.

Whatever Cassie's struggles and though she and Dave still worried she did not interact with children her own age, she seemed to be happy and her passion for life was abundant.

They attended Felix's first recital. He was far from a professional but after only a handful of years of lessons his piano playing was enjoyable to listen to though the wrong notes on the violin were sometimes hard for her ears to take. His teachers assured him that over time he would gain a better ear and stop making those mistakes. He was enthusiastic about his music and she and Dave were happy to indulge them.

She and Ann took a girls weekend in Bath. She enjoyed the spas immensely and it was a nice, albeit brief, change of pace.

Amy documented Christmas and New Years and birthdays. Dave handed her an envelope with money, and she counted out the full 3000 pounds. Dave explained his mate paid them back in full. They could put that part of their past behind them as well. Not that she was upset about the money. It was that he did not even consult her. But that part, too, was resolved. There were no more surprise purchases on their credit cards. There was a blur of science fairs and concerts, all of which Amy captured in photos for memories sake. They rarely looked back through the pictures and in hindsight, it seemed silly to take them, yet her pride in her children's accomplishments was immense.

She co-authored three articles in peer reviewed journals, each one a cause for celebration. Her career was doing better than ever despite all the distractions life seemed to provide.

Now aware of just how easily everything could fall apart, when life seemed tough she and Dave would take the family on a vacation. Edinburgh, the south of France, and Barcelona were some of their more memorable vacation spots, but each time they got away they could return to London restored and replenished.

Eventually, they stopped traveling as much. Felix did not want to give up days of piano practice, though he insisted on taking his violin with him where ever he went. Cassie was reluctant to be distracted from her studies, and while Amy knew it was not healthy for them to be focused and never play, they seemed content and she and Dave let them be. They were not getting into trouble at any rate.

A couple of years later, Amy received a call from Jenna. She looked at her niece, now at sixteen she looked almost like an adult. "This is a surprise," she commented, though it did not follow it was a bad surprise.

"Sorry. Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you," Jenna stated. She appeared nervous.

"Alright," Amy agreed, curious as to what prompted Jenna to call her. Over the years their relationship was not as close as it used to be, separated by distance and time zones, but she did try. She sent her niece and nephews presents every year for their birthdays and Christmas.

"You know how you were the person who got me into science," Jenna stated.

Amy did not know she was the reason. She merely saw an interest and an aptitude and encouraged it. If she was successful, it was all because of Jenna herself.

"You're welcome," Amy said.

"Yes, well, I got into a science camp at Oxford. Anyways, mom is really nervous about me going so I was hoping you could talk to her?" Jenna asked.

"I'll see what I can do," Amy said.

She called Cecile right away. The woman looked tired but good. "Jenna put you up to this," Cecile said, "And before you nag me, she can go as long as you pick her up from the airport and get her safely to and from that summer camp," Cecile agreed.

That was easier than Amy anticipated. "Jenna had me convinced I had a lot of work to do."

"I know," Cecile said, "I'm just worried about her. You can understand that I'm sure."

That she did. She would not like it if either of her children wanted to galvanize halfway across the world. She would be worried to death having them so far away and in another country by themselves.

"I also know that with college approaching, this might help her get scholarship money and I really do want her to go. It's hard to let go."

"I understand. Dave and I will take good care of her while she's nearby," Amy assured Cecile. Her cousin relaxed a little.

"I know," she said, "I think Jenna will be better off with you anyways."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Amy questioned.

"It's Jack. He's sober again. Or at least, he claims he is. I got a restraining order against him but he's starting to show up again."

"Have you reported him?" Amy questioned, knowing it could go a long way towards solving Cecile's problems.

Cecile was conflicted. "I've considered it. But if he really is better, I want the kids to know their father."

"You're being unrealistic. Jack failed to change since we were teenagers. I doubt he's suddenly had an epiphany," Amy counseled.

"I know you're probably right," Cecile agreed, "It's just hard to villainize him even after everything."

"I understand," Amy said, and she did.

Jenna arrived a few days early to spend some time with her family before Amy took her to her science camp.

Amy toured Jenna around London, though she was most interested in seeing the research labs at the university. Dave might consider her a strange girl but Amy understood her fascination first hand. To be young and not jaded.

Though Cassie and Felix were much younger than Jenna, they got along well. That was until Cassie made a comment about the superiority of physics and Jenna retaliated by saying chemistry was the best of the sciences.

Thus ensued a fight, as each of the girls called into question the validity of the other's fields. She helped the girls to resolve their argument before they grew to dislike the other. Not skilled as a mediator, she at least got them to call a cease fire before it was time to take Jenna to her camp.

"Thanks for convincing my mom to let me go," Jenna said as Amy dropped her off and made sure she was settled into the dorms for the summer.

"I didn't do anything," Amy said, surprised Cecile had not told Jenna herself. "Your mom was going to let you go all along. I just helped relieve her worries."

Jenna rolled her eyes in a stereotypical teenage fashion. "I'll be fine," she grumbled, "how much trouble can I get into?"

Amy decided it was best not to point out just how much and what kind of trouble she could find herself in. Cecile would not appreciate the interference.

The summer passed by in a blur, and by the time she needed to pick Jenna up and deliver her back to the airport, she was rather surprised two whole months were gone already.

Each year she grew older time passed quicker and quicker. She and Dave celebrated their tenth anniversary, an occasion which was marked by Ann once again babysitting for them so they could go on a vacation together. At Bernadette's recommendation, they went to India for a week. When it was time to return home, neither of them wanted to leave.

"We're finally getting a baby," Penny squealed one day when Amy called her. Amy looked at her excited face and could feel nothing but happiness for her. "That's great," she said. After a couple of years on the list for adoption, it was about time Penny and Leonard finally got their chance. "Do you know what gender?"

"Not yet. But we're going to be at the mother's ultrasound when she finds out more."

"Congratulations," Amy said, knowing that Penny and Leonard were eager to adopt. Though they wanted children, Penny refused to put her body through that. She would not want to be fat should she ever become a movie star, though realistically, her chances of that were over. LA was full of younger, beautiful blond actresses, though Amy knew none of them could compare to Penny's general goodness.

"I'm so nervous, but it just feels right, you know?" Penny said.

That Amy did know and she said as much. "And Leonard and I would like you to be the godmother. If you're up for it."

"I am," Amy said, "Thank you." She was going to become tearful soon if she was not careful. It was fitting that she would soon be godmother to Penny's child, as Penny was the twin's godmother.


	60. Chapter 60

Amy and Dave took the twins to New York for their tenth birthday, being the one present both children could agree upon. Cassie wanted to go to see the CERN supercollider. Felix wanted to go to the opera in Vienna. They compromised with New York. Felix and Cassie, for their part, were fascinated by the city, on both how similar and different it was compared to their home.

Time seemed to pass by quickly after that. She studied British history for her citizenship test as she neared her ten year mark in the UK. What a relief it would be to no longer need to apply for visas and pay the health surcharge each time.

"How did it go?" Dave asked her when she returned home.

She beamed. "I passed."

He hugged her tightly. "I knew you would," he said, but she still saw his enthusiasm all the same.

"I got every single question right," Amy said.

Dave beamed affectionately. "Of course you did. Now what do you want to do to celebrate?"

They went to her favorite bookstore where she got lost in the rows of bookshelves. Dave and the twins browsed as well, and while normally she would cut her own search short at that point, the rest of her family went to enjoy the cafe upstairs while she kept searching. It was one of her favorite celebrations.

As much as she'd grown accustomed to her new country, some things still caught her off guard. One such instance was when Dave said the twins were old enough to take the bus home from school by themselves.

In Amy's opinion, they were not nearly old enough to take the bus by themselves. They weren't even teenagers yet, but Dave insisted they could handle it. In fact, he'd pushed for them to take the bus alone as young as age nine, but she vetoed that suggestion outright; she was too plagued by worry at the time. The relief and added flexibility of not needing either her or Dave to pick them up from school eventually won out and she agreed to a trial run shortly after they turned eleven. After a week with no incidences, and enjoying the reprieve from pickup duty, Amy decided to allow the change to be permanent.

As the years passed by quickly, some things remained constant. Felix and Cassie fought almost constantly, but even though Amy largely gave up mediating the fights when they did not interrupt her, they seemed to make up and become best friends almost instantaneously. It was a fascinating phenomenon to watch. Neither her nor Dave had siblings growing up, so the both of them were baffled by the love/hate relationship between the two.

"Should they be fighting this much?" Amy asked Dave.

"I don't know. You're the neurobiologist."

While she noted, and took copious amounts of pictures, of the twins as they experienced the effects of age, she noticed changes in her and Dave as well. He started experiencing back pain, and could often be found in the evenings lying on a hot water bottle to help sooth the ache. They replaced their mattress with one that was firmer, as Amy's research indicated that could help with his pain as well. Dave swore it helped but she couldn't tell the difference.

He started taking the children with him to football games, and while she occasionally joined them, she could never get into the game. Perhaps there was fancy footwork involved, and she knew better to question the entertainment value of the country's favorite sport—she could hear singing coming from the nearby pubs during every England game—but she never could see the appeal.

Her accent started to change. Not a lot, and it was more the words she used and her cadence than her pronunciation, but there was a difference. Not intentional, and it hadn't happened quickly, but she found fewer people were confused by the way she spoke. It made going about her daily life easier when she had to repeat herself less often.

Other changes were not as helpful.

"Quit pulling at my hair," Amy finally had to tell Cassie as the preteen insisted on pulling at her hair.

"But you have grey hairs," Cassie commented. "I'm just trying to get rid of them."

Amy gently batted her hands away. "Don't pluck them out," she said. "It hurts."

Later she studied her appearance in the mirror, and just as Cassie said, she found grey hairs. She ignored them at first, but it was quickly becoming apparent that there were more of them, almost on a daily basis.

"You fret too much," Dave commented as she combed her fingers through her hair, studying each white strand in the mirror.

"I'm going grey," she said. She knew it would happen, but she still disliked seeing her brown hair marred by flecks of white.

"I think it makes you look distinguished," Dave said.

"It makes me look old," she retorted, unsure where her sudden concern for her appearance came from. In general, she gave it little thought, preferring to be comfortable than fashionable. Even years later she hadn't adapted to the London chic look. She felt ill at ease in form fitting clothing, and preferred instead her baggy skirts and cardigans. So what if her clothes stood out on the Underground? She'd seen people wearing clothes far stranger than hers.

"You're not old," Dave said.

She glared at him. Nevertheless, she started getting her hair died routinely. The brown color of the dye was not as rich or varied as her natural hair color had been, but it was close enough and it kept her from looking grey.

She felt old when Felix and Cassie started sixth form at fifteen. When exactly had they become teenagers? She wasn't that old.

Her hair begged to disagree.

If it was possible, her children were both more brilliant than her. Cassie reminded her so much of her younger self with her single minded determination to learn all the laws of the physical universe, except while her interests tended towards the neurobiological Cassie's tended towards physics. The similarity was freaky. She threw herself into physics, had already coauthored papers from her lab, and was just biding her time until she could go to university and have access to more equipment than she did at home. She and Dave both worked their contacts at their respective universities to find theoretical physics professors and researchers willing to take on a brilliant kid and show her the ropes, but there was only so much they could do. Cassie wanted more and there was only so much they could give her.

"She's going to be leaving us soon, isn't she?" Dave said to her one night once both the kids were asleep. Or, as Amy suspected, pretending to be asleep while their phones kept them occupied. However, as long as they kept their grades up and woke up in time for school, she would turn a blind eye to their staying up late.

"I think so. But I'm sure she'll be fine. She'll be too focused on physics to care about anything else. She spends so much of her time in her own mind I worry about her. Now I know how my mother felt about me when I refused to socialize."

"You sympathize with your mother. Shocking!" Dave feigned surprise.

"Stop that," Amy pouted but she was not actually upset by the comparison. In the ways that mattered, she was a much better mother to her children than her own was to her.

She cuddled up to Dave's chest and her husband laughed softly. "I'm sure she'll be fine. Just look at you."

"I wish there was more I could do to help Felix. But you know the brooding musician types—they don't really want to talk to us science people."

"Yes. To think a mathematician and a neurobiologist have a kid interested in music." It was a tease and she knew it. She did not understand Felix's fascination with the unpredictability of music and performance, preferring herself the comfort of the natural sciences which were comforting in their immutability, but she supported her son in his studies. When she or Dave had the time, they took him to shows and concerts.

"Yes. I bet you once Cassie goes to college Felix won't be long behind. He never can stand to be outdone by his sister."

"That he can't," Dave agreed.

"Did you know I think Felix might have a girlfriend," Amy said.

Dave, in the process of taking a sip of water, barely managed to avoid choking as he swallowed. "You're kidding."

Amy smiled wickedly. "Not at all. There's this girl at school, and they are working on a plan to become benign overlords of the world. I think he likes her."

"You had me scared for a moment there."

Amy laughed as Dave's shocked expression subsided. "I know. I'm just glad to see one of our children has a friend."

"It's not that bad . . ."

"Don't even go there, Dave. The only people Cassie really talks to are more than twenty years older than her. I just worry. I can't help it."

Dave kissed her temple. "I know you can't help but worry."


	61. Chapter 61

Dave seemed to be content with the silence but Amy did not like it. She felt the need to talk, though of late she felt like she and her husband rarely talked about something that was not directly related to either of their children.

"How's your work going?" she asked after a while.

"What?" Dave seemed startled by the abrupt method of resuming their conversation. "Oh. It's good."

"Anything interesting happen?" she prodded, trying to satisfy her need for companionship.

"No." He said, clearly not in a talkative mood. There was simply no talking to him when he was in his hyper relaxed mode. He wanted to talk about nothing of importance.

Well, she could at least tell him about her day.

"I ran a lot of PCR today." Dave did not appear to be listening. "And then one of the rats spontaneously turned into a bat."

"That's nice."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes love."

She knew he wasn't but to fill the silence she decided to continue on anyways. "And I figured out the reason my last experiments did not show a statistically significant difference between the experimental group and the control."

"That's good," Dave said in place of asking her why.

Amy resisted the urge to roll her eyes in frustration. If he was not curious then maybe she should not bother talking to him anymore.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" she asked.

"No."

Well. He did not want to talk. He did not want to watch a movie. He was just content to sit there in silence and she was getting bored.

Amy grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. There was a documentary about dolphins on, and though she was not particularly interested in dolphins, it seemed the best choice to watch.

They watched the documentary from the middle, and once it was over Amy turned off the tv and they both headed upstairs for bed.

The next morning she said goodbye to the twins before they went to school. Dave was going to another university to give a guest lecture so she made sure to say goodbye to him as well before going to work.

Now her experiment was back on track, she felt happier throughout the entire day. The success of the experiment really altered her view of her work.

She got home late and found Felix practicing his violin while Cassie intently read her novel. Amy tried to call Dave but got no response. She figured he must be busy at the moment, or caught up in traffic on his way back, and turned on the news while she began cooking dinner.

She turned off the tv and called the children to dinner.

Cassie, as usual, informed her of the minutiae of her most recent experiment. Felix, unlike his sister, talked not about his most recent science experiments but about his plans to conquer the world with Sarah. Amy hoped he was only joking or she had a little megalomaniac to worry about. She wanted the sulking musician back.

She would have ignored the incoming call during dinner except she was still waiting to hear back from Dave. A quick look at caller ID told her it was Dave finally calling her back.

"Hello," she said cheerfully.

The cheer did not last long.

"Hello. Am I speaking to Mrs Gibbs?"

"Dr Gibbs, actually. May I ask who's calling?"

"Hello, Dr Gibbs. I'm Officer—. I'm sorry to inform you but your husband was involved in a car crash."

Amy vaguely heard the words M25 and critical condition but little seemed to be coherent. She was glad she was already sitting down, certain her legs would not be strong enough to support her through her shock. He was alive and at the hospital but he was not in good shape. She jotted down the name of the hospital and thanked the officer for telling her before she hung up.

Ignoring her unfinished dinner and the dirty dishes in the kitchen, she waited for the Uber to get there.

"What is it?" Cassie asked.

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't. Saying it aloud would make it too real.

"Mum? What is it?" Felix prodded.

She looked up at them.

"What's going on?" Felix repeated.

"Your dad was in a car crash," she finally said.

"But dad's okay?" Cassie started nervously twisting her hair as she did when she was stressed and Amy pushed her hand away from her head.

"Don't knot your hair," she said, and then slumped in defeat. "I don't know, sweetheart. We'll see when we get there."

"Aren't you going to tell the family?" Felix asked.

She knew he was right. She should start telling his family, few though they were and little though she knew them.

"I'll call when I know more," Amy said.

It was the longest, most excruciating drive of her life and she was only glad she was only a passenger. She was in no condition to drive. The driver tried to interject and express sympathy a few times, but eventually stunned silence won out and Amy was grateful for it. She did not want to have to small talk with a stranger. Call her rude but she had an excuse. Her husband was in the hospital and from what little information the officer managed to give her it was serious.

She left the twins in the waiting room to occupy themselves while she went up to the triage nurse and asked for information on her husband.

The nurse looked at a few things on her computer before looking up at Amy.

"He's still in surgery, Mrs—"

"Dr." The correction was automatic.

"Dr Gibbs." Amy felt her heart sink as the nurse informed her of his condition.

"Will he live?" Amy asked. His condition did not sound good at all.

"We're doing what we can, ma'am." No assurance he would be fine but instead the cold reality that he might recover but he also might not. It was too early to tell. She asked if she could go back to see him but was told she had to wait outside until he came out of surgery.

She felt tense all over as she sat down. How could this have happened? She knew car accidents happened all the time but they happened to strangers, not her husband. Not Dave.

She was worried and upset but the one thing she knew was she had to hold it together in front of her children. They might be very grown up for their age, and at fifteen they weren't her little babies anymore, but they were still young and were just as worried about their dad as she was.

When the nervous looking nurse called her in from the waiting room, she knew the news was not good. She left her children there as she was taken to a private room. The nurse and the physician introduced themselves but all she felt was a raw nagging at her gut that nothing would ever be alright again.

He was gone. She did not want to believe them as they told her that her husband died during surgery. She was in shock. Denial. She wanted to see him and they warned her the sight would not be pretty. She insisted anyways. She had to see with her own eyes to know it was real and not some epic fantasy her brain concocted.

They led her to the room and left her alone. She sat down in the chair at his bedside. The monitors were still attached and she saw the flatline and knew what it meant. He was not breathing and he still looked cold. There was a great deal of blood staining his gown and skin.

Tears welled in her eyes and she did not even attempt to wipe them away. How could this have happened? Only yesterday that sat in the living room talking as they usually did and today he was lifeless. He looked stone cold, solid, and it was nearly impossible for her to believe even with the evidence right in front of her.

She wanted to rage and wonder what happened, but in the end she wiped away her tears. She could grieve later. For now, she had to break the news to her children.

She returned to the waiting room and her expression must have given her away.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Cassie phrased her words as a question but it was clear her daughter already knew. It was not simply a lucky guess.

"Yes he is."

"No. No. Dad isn't dead. He promised me he would take me to the toy store and we could get a drone camera. Dad isn't dead. He can't be." Felix started screaming and even though he was a bit too old and tall, taller than her and still growing, she pulled him into a hug and soothing ran her hand up and down his arms.

"I'm sorry, Felix. Your father's gone." The words pained her as much to say as it did to Felix to listen to them.

"No. Not true. You're lying," he accused, but she knew he was just saying that when he started crying and buried his head into her hair to hide from the world.

"Can I get a hug too?" Cassie seemed unusually uncertain and without speaking Amy pulled her daughter close to her as well.

"Of course, sweetheart," she assured her, hugging both her children tightly as if they were her lifeline.

She was still in shock, but at an intellectual level her mind was already racing with what needed to be done next. There were a lot of people she needed to call and she would need to start making the funeral arrangements. She would notify her work that she would be taking a few personal days, and Dave's work would have to be notified as well. She should call Cassie and Felix's school and let them know what happened, and inform them that her children might not be going in for the next few days until they were feeling well enough. She did not know how long that would be.

She would need to call Dave's extended family, but that could wait till the next day. Still she would need to call them before they found out some other way. They were more distant relations but they would want to know.

When Cassie asked to see her father, Amy knew she could not allow it until Dave was cleaned up of blood and put back together for the funeral. If her daughter saw him in his present state it would haunt her. Felix chipped in as well, and she felt weary from having to refuse the both of them. They were adamant, and the nurse briefly exchanged sympathetic looks with her.

She arranged another Uber back home and waited with her children in the waiting room until it was time to go. She wanted to be back in the comfort of her own home and away from the clinical, sterile hospital and its cold unfeeling walls.

She started cleaning up dinner, more to give her hands something to do than an actual desire to clean. Distraction could help her through her pain. She wanted to cry and rage but at the same time she just felt hollow.

The worst part was the shock of the suddenness. She knew he would die someday, likely before her because he was both older and had a shorter life expectancy, but he was still in the prime of his life. One fatal accident took him away from her prematurely and she did not know how to process the loss. He was her rock. Her anchor. Her love. In one swoop he was gone forever.

"Dave died," she said when Penny answered her Whatsapp call.

"What? How? Are you all right? No. Of course you're not. Tell me what happened, sweetie."

"He was in a car accident and didn't make it. Penny, it may be a lot to ask you but can you come here?"

Penny was silent for a bit. "Of course. I'll get on the first plane to London. I don't want you to have to go through this alone."

"Thank you," she whispered. She felt cold inside. She should be gratefully Penny was willing to drop everything and come out to see her right away but she just felt hollow inside, as if she would never feel again.

She hated that feeling. She never would have expected such great pain was possible yet it was.

"You don't have to thank me. Is there anything Leonard and I can do?"

"I don't want to be alone. Can you just not hang up for awhile?"

"Of course," Penny said. Amy put the phone on speaker without ending the call. That night she could not bring herself to sleep on the bed she and Dave shared now that he was gone forever. Instead, she put her phone on the coffee table and settled onto the couch with a blanket. Sleep would not come easily, if at all that night, but at least she could be secure in the knowledge that she was still connected to her best friend in some small way.

After a fitful night spent awake, Amy knew it was time to face her stark new reality. She phoned her work and told them she would be out on personal leave. She gave no details, but she must have sounded upset enough they did not ask. Calling Dave's work was harder, but she gritted her teeth and did it anyways. By the end of the conversation, she was sobbing yet it had to be done. Rather than call all of Dave's family, she found the number for one of his cousins in her contact list, called her, and asked her to spread the news to the rest of the family. She was not sure how many more phone calls she could handle and the other woman was very understanding, sad but assured her that they would all help out Amy however she needed them too. She thanked her for the gesture but said her friends would be coming in later that day to help her out.

Next she pulled up her laptop and began her research on the funeral arrangements. She made a few calls, and once she was done and enough was settled she felt exhausted. She went to work making breakfast, pancakes, even though she did not feel the least bit hungry.

When she summoned Cassie and Felix downstairs for breakfast, they were able to stomach a bit more than her but not much. For the first time in her life she did not have the slightest clue to to comfort them when she herself was feeling so upset. It was as if her maternal instincts spontaneously abandoned her and she was left clueless.

She felt nothing when Penny and Leonard showed up, though it was nice not to be alone in the house anymore. She put them in the bedroom she shared with Dave—Beth's former room, having long been turned into a guest room—as she could not stomach being in there anymore. As for herself, she took the guest room. She was not sure she liked the idea of sleeping in a bed by herself but she knew she would have to become used to it now she was a widow.

Widow. How strange that word sounded. She was too young. Dave was too young. She and Dave only had sixteen years married, seventeen together. Her life with him was cruelly cut short.

Her guests stayed with her through the end of the funeral, and she was pleasantly comforted by the large number of friends and relatives who showed up. The funeral was a simple affair. She cried the entire time she spoke. Cassie seemed to shut down during her time to speak about her father. Felix was the opposite of his sister. Rather than talk, he picked up his violin and played a haunting aria. By the time he set his violin back down she saw tears glistening in his eyes.

She was moved by the people who shared their condolences and gave her casseroles. She was even more grateful that Raj, Howard, and Bernadette showed up as well. They had barely known Dave, and over the years and the great distance she was not as close to them anymore, the guys especially, as she used to be. Penny was still her bestie and they stayed in touch, and by extension she still considered herself close to Leonard. Having all her friends nearby was of great comfort to her even if it did not feel like it at the time.

After the funeral they went back to her house where Penny arranged for caterers. After long enough she stopped crying, and being surrounded by those who loved her and Dave had her eventually cracking a few smiles even if she still felt hollow inside.

There was a hole in her heart that could never be filled again.

Although they made her feel just a bit better—she felt like she would never fully recover—she was just as glad when everyone left, leaving just Penny and Leonard. They took care of the clean up for her, for which she was immeasurably grateful. Leonard went to the airport the next day. Penny would still be around for a few more days, but in a week she would have to return to California as well.

Amy did not want to selfishly tell her bestie she could not leave yet. She understood Penny needed to get back to work. At some point she would be left by herself anyways.

Regardless of the emptiness inside and the hollowness of her actions, life continued. A week later Cassie asked to return to school. She wanted to return to normal.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back?" Amy asked, wanting to make sure it would not be too traumatic for her young daughter.

Cassie squared her shoulders. "Yes," she said determinedly. "Dad wanted to be a theoretical physicist. He never got to but I am. So I need to go to school." She understood Cassie's reasoning, to an extent, and was glad her daughter was starting to recover. She was still upset and grasping onto any means she had to relate to her father, and if that was what it took to help Cassie come to terms with her father's death, Amy would support her wholeheartedly.

"All right then."

"Me too?" Felix asked, not wanting to be left out.

"Is that what you want?" She needed to be sure it was his choice, not his inclination to follow in his twin sister's footsteps.

"Yes." He sounded resolute. "Sarah's mother died. She can understand me."

"Alright," Amy agreed.

With that yet another part of her upturned life returned to normal, minus one important person.

It was silly of her to stay away from her work. She needed to go in or she would ruin her experiments by negligence, even if her graduate students kept her updated on their progress during her absence. There were some things only she could do and she could not waste thousands of pounds because she was too cowardly and upset to return to work. If her children could return to school, she could return to work as well.

She forced herself into the lab. She told a few of her closer coworkers about her husband's death, and the word spread rapidly. For the rest of the day she had people expressing their condolences. At one point she was called down to human resources. They asked if she wished to see a grief counselor—she denied the idea because she wanted to sort through everything on her own; she was nothing if not independent. She was encouraged to take additional time off is she needed it, having still not used all her paid vacation time yet.

She insisted she wanted her life to get back to normal and that included working. She was back in the physical sense if not the mental

Though she thought it would be hard, her work allowed her some distraction. She did not attempt to dissect any of the brain slices waiting for her, uncertain whether she could steady her hands long enough to do more good than harm. That task she turned over to the graduate students.

Surprisingly, they did it with a only a few mishaps, ruining only two of the twenty samples. In her two weeks absence they handled things admirably, even keeping to her meticulous systems. She was proud of their work. It showed she trained them well.

Two months later, she felt almost normal again. There was still a hollowness that could not be filled but she did not wish to fill it. It was a reminder of the man she loved. Life still seemed dull, and London's constant clouds and rain all the harder to handle for it. Yet at the same time she started to feel a warmth again as she watched her children accept what happened. They were still sad, but they handled the loss admirably and she was proud of them for it. Their father would be proud of them, she knew.

Felix started bringing Sarah by the house in the afternoons and they would work on homework together and then Sarah would accompany Felix on the piano while he played his violin. Sometimes, they even sat at the piano together and played a duet. Amy watched the two friends. Perhaps in time there would be something more between them but at the moment they both took comfort in each other's understanding of what it was like to have a parent unexpectedly die. Amy invited Sarah's dad over a few times as well. It helped to talk to him about how he dealt with his wife's death, though she was certain not to pry for any details that could make either of them uncomfortable. He was a rather closed off man, reminding her so much of Dave when she first met him, but he seemed to be willing to open up to her just a tiny bit.


	62. Chapter 62

Cassie threw herself into her schoolwork. Felix, meanwhile, dove even more deeply into his music, and brought Sarah along with him. A year older than her children, Sarah got on with Felix well, though Cassie kept to herself for the most part. They practiced music together all the time, and if they were not rehersing, they created their own fantasy worlds, complete with maps and constitutions and a whole other host of details. Felix and Sarah might not understand most of the science Cassie loved talking about, but Amy recognized their created imaginary Utopia for what it was: escapism. It was their way of coping with the loss of a beloved parent.

For all of Cassie's love of science, Amy frequently fretted that she did not get enough socialization. Felix was her only friend, but as Felix became increasingly close to Sarah, Cassie spent even more time alone.

She found her own method of retaliation.

Amy heard the piano, loud and discordant, and she cringed.

"Mum!" Felix shouted at her from downstairs, "Cassie is playing my piano."

She sighed and moved downstairs to mediate the dispute where, sure enough, Cassie was hitting her fingers against the piano keys, not caring that the noise she made was harsh and ugly. Felix, affronted at her mistreatment of his beloved instrument, struggled to push her off the bench but Cassie resisted.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"I'm playing the piano," Cassie said over the din.

"No she's not. She's gonna make it go out of tune. Mum, make her stop!"

Felix was distraught.

"Cassie, enough," Amy said. "Felix, if Cassie wants to play the piano, then she can."

"But mum—"

"—but nothing. Cassie, if you're going to play, you can have lessons. Until then, please stop the racket."

"But mum—" It was Cassie's turn to protest.

"No buts."

If Cassie did not stop the racket, Amy would soon have a headache.

Her fun ruined, she pouted and got up from the piano bench, much to Felix's relief. He stuck his tongue out at Cassie, who returned the gesture.

Not for the first time Amy was glad that she was an only child. She did not know how Cassie and Felix could constantly fight, and then make up and play together the next minute.

Time passed her by quickly. Cassie's name was published on two papers. She switched to a new lab where she could focus more heavily on math. Felix and Sarah landed a gig at a nearby coffee shop. The earnings were not much, but he saved every penny. Then he started teaching a few piano lessons here and there. Not many, but a few. Amy was glad his side hack kept him busy.

For herself, on the other hand, she was lonely. She had her children around, and she was proud of watching their accomplishments, of watching them grow up, but each time they passed another milestone, she felt the loneliness all the more acutely. Dave should have been there with her, so they could be proud of their children together. It wasn't fair, that he should have been taken away from her far too early. Sometimes, when she laid in bed at night half asleep and half awake, she could feel a soft caress over her side, a tickle of breath in ear, a slight kiss on her lips, and then she would fully come to and be taunted by the ghost of what once was. Of what would never be again. It was all she could do to quell her trembling at the emptiness brought on by the haunting torment.

Every major decision she had to make, from her children's education to her next career move, was made entirely on her own. She missed having someone to talk it through with her. She wanted that guidance back. Only he wasn't there.

Briefly she thought about dating again, but then she would hear Felix playing Rachmaninoff's Vocalise on his violin and the sorrow embedded into the tune, the emotionality of the piece, and it would bring tears to her eyes.

It was a stark reminder that no matter how accomplished her children might appear, they still felt the loss of their dad. Maybe not daily, and not in a debilitating way, but the loss was there all the same. She couldn't do it. She could not introduce someone new into their lives. Not yet. And even if she were willing to introduce someone new into their lives, she could not bear the thought of finding someone else. Not in person, and especially not on the superficial dating apps Londoners seemed to favor. She resigned herself to being lonely.

Amy knew that it would not be long before Cassie, chomping at the bit to advance her education at a pace more suited her abilities, began applying to universities. She would finish her A levels by the end of the year and it was time for her to move on. Felix, never wanting to be left behind, filled out his applications not long after. She, of course, had the joy of proof reading their personal statements. Not to long ago, they were learning how to read and write. When had they grown up so quickly? Briefly, she wondered what Dave would have thought of their essays, but as it was want to do, time continued onwards and the subject slipped from her mind.

Selfishly, Amy hoped both her children opted to go to universities close to home. She did not want to have to say goodbye to them as they continued their education but she knew it was necessary, and they likely would not be staying in London. It was what they wanted and she wanted them to have an education as well. From a young age she and Dave instilled a love of learning and education into their lives, told them from the time they were children that they would be going to uni. She could hardly fault them for being ready to go. It was almost time.

Yet at the same time she did not know what she would do once they were gone. She would be in the house she was supposed to share with Dave all by herself, only her work and Ann to distract her, with her closest friends thousands of miles away and in opposite time zones.

She felt the loneliness acutely as it built up, loneliness she had not felt since she was a teenager and later on, a young adult who had not yet met Penny and been transformed by the companionship and acceptance of a group of well-meaning friends.

She worried how she would stomach being alone. Amy envied her children their ability to move on a continue with their lives. She envied the way they threw themselves into school to better themselves so their dad would be proud of them. She wished she could act that way, and yet some nights, even a year later, she still cried herself to sleep in the guest room. The frequency decreased over time, and the potency of the pain died away, but it was ever present. The bedroom she shared with Dave remained untouched apart from her clothes she moved into the guest room's dresser. She couldn't stand to be in there anymore and yet she also couldn't bear to clean it out.

Perhaps she needed to go through his books and papers and clothes and sort them, figure out which ones to keep and which ones to get rid of yet in the end she could not bare to be in that bedroom for a minute let alone long enough to clean it. Thoughts of dust piling up began to torment her, and then she would open a bottle of Rosé and it would all be forgotten. For a time.

Cleaning would come later. For now she would ignore the pain, and perhaps if she refused to clean out his belongings he would come back to her in some way, not really dead. It was an irrational hope. She saw his dead body. She planned and organized the funeral months ago. A part of it all still did not seem real.

How, in one day, the most important man in her life was gone and her children were her saving grace. Without them to live for, to listen to as they recovered from the loss, she would have gone stir crazy. She was too young to have a dead husband and to be a single mother, even if it would not be much longer before they were adults.

Her children were her source of strength. Her work gave her routine and familiarity and her children she loved more than she thought possible. In everything they did she could spot small reminders of Dave. In their height—they'd already long surpassed her—and looks and the way they carried themselves. In their curiosity and goodness. They were the last part of Dave she still had and she would dedicate her life to their happiness. It was nothing less than they deserved after loosing their father abruptly.

Most of the time they seemed fine. Cassie and Felix were sad their father was gone, and yet they seemed more able than her to go on with normal life. Cassie read textbooks for her personal enjoyment. Felix and Sarah were more often heard playing duets together. And yet where did she fit into that entire mess? The lonely and sad widow whose husband died far earlier than either of them expected. She went into work and the routine in her lab gave her some comfort, and her coworkers and students were very understanding, though they sometimes pressed her for details she did not want to give. Yet at the same time she wished people would stop walking on eggshells around her. No matter how she felt, the pure and simple truth was she did not know how to be alone anymore.

She had her children but they were different. She took care of them. Nurtured them. Now she had to do it alone. If she failed or did not know what to do, she always had Dave to fall back on. He was great with the children. He adored them. He was her reason when she did not know what to do or where to turn. He was gone. Never again would she have his quiet presence as he was content to sit in silence while she told him about all the mundane details of her day.

Her constant downward spiral of self-doubts and insecurities hit particularly strong when the twins came home from school and Felix refused to talk. He was in a mood. This is where Dave would step in. He had a talent for getting their quieter and moodier teenage son to talk. For the life of her she could not figure out what was wrong.

He moped for the evening, and finally sick putting up with his sullenness, she sent him upstairs to his room.

Once he was out of the room, Cassie looked up at her wide eyes. "Sarah won't speak to him," she said.

"What?"

"That's why he's upset. Sarah won't speak to him."

"Why?" she asked, wanting to know how to help Felix.

Cassie shrugged. "I don't know. Ask him."

That wasn't very helpful, but at least she had a place to start now. She could not help but think Dave would know what to do. Her husband would know how to help him and she just felt lost and alone. She knew how hard it could be to fight with friends, and Sarah was Felix's first real friend, aside from his sister. She knew just how much that first friend could mean, how dear they could become and how much fighting with them hurt. At least she was in her thirties the first time she had friends to fight with, but even so they did not fight that much or stop speaking to each other when they did. They were adults, after all, no matter how much the guys tended to act like kids in their idolization of all things comic book and science fiction related.

She made her way up the stairs to Felix's room. She knocked on the door and asked if she could come in, but when she received a muffled go away she went in anyways.

"Hi," she said softly and sat down on the edge of the bed. Felix was lying down with a Bach concerto open in front of him and his violin under his chin but she was not fooled. He was not practicing.

"I said go away." She'd deal with that particular tone later. He was upset and would not speak to her that way normally.

"I heard you and Sarah aren't speaking anymore. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Are you sure? It might help to talk about it."

She received no response. He flipped a page and put his bow on the strings but she saw his eyes were not moving back and forth and his bow remained still. He was staring straight at the notes without really seeing him.

"It's rude to ignore me," she said and pried the loosely held bow out of his hand, replacing it in the open case.

Felix shot upwards and glared at her. "Hey!" he protested, "I was using that."

"You can have it back if you tell me what happened with Sarah."

Felix looked back and forth between her and the bow. He kept his lips firmly shut, evidently deciding that he'd much rather loose the bow than another tactic.

"Answer me, Felix," she demanded.

His fingers rested over the strings instead and she lightly pulled the violin away before he decided to resort to pizzicato.

"Don't want to."

"Did you two fight?"

"No."

Well. That was abrupt. However, he seemed more agitated which let her know that despite his adamant denial, they were fighting. Finally a problem she could begin to puzzle through.

"When I first met Penny, we got into this huge argument. She got a used arm chair and when I told her the chair was unhygienic and she needed to get rid of it, and she got so mad at me she refused to talk to me. Eventually I went and apologized to her and I even sat in the chair. Turns out there was a rat hiding in it and it bit me. But Penny forgave me. I'm sure you and Sarah can work it out too."

"I don't care about your stupid stories." He was pouting and it was clear all her efforts had little effect on him. Rather than stick around while he continued to bad mouth her, she stood up and looked down at him.

"Very well," she agreed, "If you want to sulk in your room, go ahead. But when you want to leave, you will come and apologize to me for being rude. Understood?"

"Go away."

There were so many venomous things she wanted to say to make him listen to her but she knew no amount of force would make him be pleasant until he was ready.

"Fine. When you're ready to apologize you may come out." She stormed from the room, and once she was gone, her anger abated. That was abysmal. She'd tried to help and only made matters worse.

She had no idea what she was doing and she had no one to talk to, no second person to go in and try where she failed.

It was early in the morning in California but she automatically found Penny's number in her Whatsapp contact list and placed the call.

"Amy?" Penny answered the phone a little bit later.

"I can't do this, Penny. I'm a failure and I can't do this."

"Hold on a second, sweetie. You're not making much sense. What can't you do?"

"I can't do this by myself. I can't raise Cassie and Felix alone. I can't do this without him." The negative emotions were taking control again sending her into a downward spiral she could not halt, did not want to halt.

"Yes you can. You're a fantastic mother." No matter how many times and how many ways Penny tried to reassure her, however, nothing worked. She failed and her husband was gone and she had no one to fall back on. She was alone and did not know what to do. Eventually, she ended the call, feigning feeling better to avoid worrying Penny but if anything she felt worse for calling her bestie.

What would Penny know about raising children on her own? She had Leonard even if the two of them bickered more frequently than not; it was simply the way the two of them operated.

"Mum," a soft voice said. Amy looked around, startled to see Cassie in the room. She wondered how much of her breakdown her daughter heard.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I . . . I think you're a good mum."

The raw sincerity and the intent struck her more than the words themselves. Cassie was right. She tried to be a good mom and with Dave by her side she succeeded. Now she just had to figure out how to do it on her own and despite the way Felix spoke to her earlier, she knew both her children loved her as well. She could pull through it for them.

"Thank you."

"Mum," Cassie said again.

"Hmmm?" Amy said. She thought she was doing better. When she'd gotten back to work and was making significant progress on tracking microglia movements, she thought she was fine. She'd cried at the funeral, grieved when she had all her friends and family there in person to support her, and thought she was better. That she was over it enough to move on even though she suspected a part of the pain would never really go away.

"I know where I'm going to uni."

She had to catch her breath at that. Her daughter was going to be leaving her for university. She was young to go off on her own and yet she was brilliant, just like her parents. Her school was unable to challenge her, and so most of what she'd learned in the last couple of months was by reading her father's textbooks. Her father explained a lot of the math and physics to her, but in the last few months before he died Cassie was explaining as much to Dave as Dave was to her. He passed on his love of physics and his regret at never pursuing it to her. Amy only hoped that Cassie would do what she wanted to, and not what she felt she had to do out of a false sense of obligation. His death only amplified her determination to continue her education and it was not exactly shocking to her that she was going to be leaving so soon.

She forced a smile she did not feel like giving onto her face. She might not want her daughter to leave her in a few months, but it was for her education and it was best for her career and her future to go. The least she could do was be a proudly supportive parent.

She asked Cassie many questions, not surprised at how many universities Cassie was accepted into but at the sheer number she managed to apply for. Germany. Cassie was going to Germany to study physics. It seemed a bit unreal and yet she knew it was coming.

She congratulated her daughter and offered to make whatever she wanted for dinner to celebrate.

The next hurdle came when Felix came downstairs when he smelled dinner.

"I'm hungry," he stated and sat down at the table.

"Don't you have something to say to me first," she reminded him.

"No."

"Really? Nothing you would like to apologize for."

"No."

"Then you can march yourself right back up to your room."

"But I'm hungry."

"If you want to stay and eat dinner you can apologize to me first."

He looked like he'd just bitten into a lime but he reluctantly apologized.

"Do you want to tell me why you spent all afternoon upset?" she asked after accepting his rather reluctant apology.

"I was accepted into Harvard." Her children were two for two that day and she the ping pong ball rapidly bouncing back and forth between them.

"That's fantastic news!" she exclaimed, excited at the prospect of her son attending her alma matter.

"I'm not sure I want to go," Felix said.

"Why not? Of course you have to go," Amy said. As much as she would hate him being so far away, she was also prideful at his acceptance.

"Sarah was rejected," Felix said, and Amy understood.

Briefly, she wondered, if she would have gone to college far away if she'd had a single friend in high school. In retrospect, she was tempted to say no with the spectre of loneliness ever present.

"Sweetheart, I know it will hurt moving so far away from your friend but the two of you can text and email and Skype. You will make it work."

"But what if she forgets about me?"

It might have been rough getting there, but she'd survived the turmoil without Dave. It may have been easier to take care of with him to help, but she did it on her own and she felt her forgotten confidence returning.

"She won't forget about you."

"I still don't like it," Felix said.

"And you don't have to. Now how about some dinner."

The next couple of days passed more smoothly. Later that night she called Penny again to apologize for waking her up early and freaking out at her, and Penny, gracious and good hearted as she was, readily accepted Amy's apology and even sympathized with her. She was having a hard time adjusting to her new life.

Now her children would be leaving her too. Their home was not large, but it was not small either. Not for a home in central London. It was just the right size for five, and then four, people to live in comfortably. There was enough space but not so much as to make the house unaffordable.

Thankfully, there was little trouble when she finally sat down to read her late husband's will. He left everything to her, Cassie, and Felix. She briefly wondered if some of his more distant relatives would contest it, but they left her alone to her grief. It was easier that way and she was grateful for the absence. She had the deeds to the house transferred into her name alone. As to the contents, she might be brave enough to read the will but each time she went to sort through Dave's possessions she could not go through with it. It was too painful seeing his belongings and instead she stayed in the guest room. At night she could pretend it was not weird sleeping in a bed by herself because it was not the bed she and her late husband shared. During the day she could look around and pretend it was her bedroom, not their bedroom, because it's neutral decorating and lack of personal possessions meant that she was the only one with anything in there. It was easier that way.

She attended Cassie and Felix's graduation. They graduated with students a year older than them, the two seventeen year old twins in a sea of eighteen year olds. Sarah graduated as well, and afterwords they all went out to dinner together.

It wasn't until she heard Cassie Gibbs and Felix Gibbs called out by the announcer that it struck her: they were both leaving for university in a few short months. And they weren't just going somewhere nearby in London, or even somewhere in England. They were both leaving the country. She was immensely proud of them for their achievement and yet at the same time sad. Were they children of normal intelligence, they would have stayed at home for another year, not leaving for university until they were eighteen and even then staying relatively close to her. She wanted them to grow and succeed and be a validation to her efforts at raising them and yet she still felt her time was unfairly cut short because they took after their parents in their intelligence. In three short months, Cassie was going to Potsdam to study physics and Felix was going to Massachusetts to study political science. They had their dorm spaces, which she had to cosign as they were both still underage, and she had to admit she was very nervous about them going and living abroad. If something happened to them, she wouldn't be there to fix it.

They would be seventeen and their roommates eighteen. It was not so large a disparity, but she worried for Cassie with her antisocial tendencies, far away from home without anyone. She did not like the arrangement and yet she could not have them living in apartments by themselves.

The worry set in even more strongly as the summer progressed. She took them to museums and they even took a trip to Nice, and yet it was not the same. Dave was not there and she had the constant cloud of her children moving out looming over her head.

Felix was the first one to leave. She drove him to LHR to send him off alone. It was a long flight and she was nervous about him being by himself yet there was little else she could do. She could not move with him and so he would have to go on his own.

When three weeks later it was time for Cassie to leave as well, Amy felt a new type of loneliness settle onto her as she returned to the house by herself.

Felix loved Harvard. He thought his freshman classes were a bit too easy and he was bored, but he struggled having to share a room with another person. Amy wished Dave was still alive as he would better be able to help a son through that particular experience but he wasn't and she would have to be a substitute. Felix finally found another friend, a boy his age who was starting to study electrical engineering. At least they would have each other.

She was more worried about Cassie. Though she said she was settling in and loving finally being in a challenging environment, she seemed lonely, reminding Amy of herself at that age. Without her family around, Cassie finally admitted she wanted friends, but she didn't know how to go about finding them. Amy sympathized greatly. She spent her entire childhood and twenties denying her need for friendship, a need she only realized in her early thirties once she had friends for the first time in her life.

They changed her for the better and she was a better person for having known them. She was more tolerant and more sensitive to the way she constantly put others down. With them she was able to squash some of her worse faults. As much as she knew making friends at long last would be good for Cassie, she knew friendship could not be forced.

The house, too large for three, was colossal with only one. She kept on the tv almost constantly if only to hear the sound of voices. She spend a lot of time Skyping her children, but that too tapered off as they became busier. Cassie became involved in research again, having latched onto a notable physicist that was willing to mentor her. Felix became involved in his school orchestra and started volunteering to teach music to lower income youth at a nearby elementary school. Her children were involved in furthering their education and could not provide her with the company she sought. Similarly, she could not keep calling her friends in Pasadena all the time. Because of the time difference, the few times the could call when they were both awake was when one or the other still had to be at work, so though she still called them on the weekends, her entire week was spent alone except for the few conversations with her coworkers.

All her free time led to thinking and thinking, as she well knew, could be a dangerous past time. She moved to London and found a new job all those years ago to take care of her now deceased mother-in-law. She and Dave stayed in London because by that point they were settled and their children in school and they did not want to mess up their children's routine. They owned a house in central London. It could not get much better than that.

She loved the city. After enough years she adopted it was her own, of a sort, but when the deluge of rain was constant she found herself resenting the weight of the umbrella she always carried with her and missing sunny California and her friends there. She even found herself missing her family on occasion, though those times were few and far between. But then she went home to Dave and the children and was content with staying right where she was. It was comfortable and familiar and she was older and more tired. Moving was such an endeavor.

Without her husband and children to return home to and Ann the only close friend tying her to London, she had nothing to distract her once she got back home. She stopped cooking, preferring to pick up dinner from Pret or Nando's instead rather than go through the effort of shopping for groceries and then cooking, only to eat alone and have more leftovers than she could eat. It was not a glamorous life. Not a good one. She loved her work but she could work in any lab in the world that had the right equipment. It was the people, her family, who tied her to London. They were all gone now.

She rattled around in her empty house and longed for the loneliness to disappear.

 **End Part II**


	63. Chapter 63

**Part III**

It didn't feel like summer. Amy sat on a boulder, her gaze sweeping out over the loch. She bundled herself in layers to protect against the cold Scottish air. It might be the end of summer, but winter was already setting in. She could feel the chill in her bones.

She didn't know what drew her to the highlands, just that with the bank holiday and she needed to get away from it all. Her children were off to college. Her husband was dead. In a city full of life, she was alone.

She wanted to be alone to mourn this day, the nineteenth year since she first met her husband. How much time had passed? Yet it was not long at all. It felt but a day since she met him, and an eternity since she lost him.

In the bustle of London, it was easy to pretend that she was over her loss, or at least pretend that she was recovering. Her children moved on. They missed their father, but not enough to hold them back, to stop them from living out their lives. Most of the time, she even convinced herself that she was recovering. That she was alright. It was easy to spend more time in her lab than would be considered healthy, and she even enjoyed the late night times when no one else was around.

Rationally, she knew that with time she would recover, but it had already been a year. She just wanted to be better.

Alone to her thoughts, enjoying the crisp, cool air and the stunning scenery laid out before her, picturesque and uncapturable in it's beauty. Sometimes she would see people pass her by, following the path around the lake. In the far distance, she would see kayakers swaying on the water. Very occasionally, people would pass by her secluded section.

She came here to be alone, and it worked, for even on the rare instances people stumbled upon her, she ignored them and they ignored her. The peace appeared to last an eternity.

Unbidden, she felt the tears come to her eyes again. She hadn't cried. Not in a long time. It was easy to cry again when she was alone.

Life wasn't easy anymore. Most of all because she hadn't expected to loose him so soon. Not when they were both young an healthy. Yet life had a way of being cruel like that. She was no stranger to loss in her family. She'd lost plenty of relatives, but Dave meant more to her than all of them combined. He was her anchor, her rock, the unyielding lifeline she held onto during all their years together.

"Hello—" Amy looked up "—Are you alright, ma'am?" a man with an Australian accent said. He, too, was far from where he came from.

Amy wiped her eyes. "I'm fine," she said curtly. She didn't want to be disturbed. She came all this way to find peace in solitude.

"I'm sorry. I'll let you be."

The stranger went as quickly as he came, Amy looked out over the loch again with bloodshot eyes. It wasn't that she wanted to remain miserable; she didn't. It wasn't that she wanted to forget him completely; she never could. But she wanted to reclaim even a small bit of happiness, to regain all the cheer that abandoned her the last year.

The wind picked up briefly, swirling her hair about her head. It would be knotted later, she knew, but could not bring herself to care. Let the wind take what it wanted of her, and herself not try to stop it.

The leaves on the trees around her, on the trees from the distant short, were withering and dying. They started to coat the ground, a blanket of sodden, rotting cells. Some still clung to their branches, holding on by a thread but about ready to let go.

The trees would wither the long winter of harsh winds and snow, and by the time the sun came back and warmed the Earth, they would grow leaves anew and regenerate.

If only it was that easy, that natural, for her to do the same.

She heard the crunch of footsteps drawing closer to her position, but she did not move, huddled as she was with her arms hugging her legs, curled up into herself for protection.

Rather than pass her by, the noise stopped right in front of her and she heard the wosh of fabric as it caught on the rock and the person settled next to her.

"I thought I'd find you here," a voice stated.

It was familiar, to be sure, but it was also a relic of her past. It held a lilt she could not quite place, long ago as it was. She cocked her head to the side to see the face of the woman who joined her.

Enough time had passed and their acquaintance short enough to render the face unrecognizable to her, lost as it was to the vestiges of time. But that hair. That hair she could never forget. Would never forget.

It was the physical embodiment of her deepest shame, a token of recklessness and stupidity and everything she was not, of a burning humiliation she could never forget. The girl with the violet hair.

"Violet?" Amy questioned to be sure, for the first time wondering how odd it was a girl named Violet should die streaks of her ebony hair violet. A bit on the nose it was.

"Amy. I knew I'd find you here."

It was here, but it was not possible. It was not fucking possible. Because she wasn't in LA anymore. She hadn't been there in a long time. She was in a different country on a different continent. She never should have run into the girl with the violet hair again, yet there she was.

Amy didn't have the strength to argue. She simply didn't have it in her. The last year had worn her down as her spirit gradually frayed then broke entirely under the weight of sorrow.

"Are you stalking me?" she asked, wondering if it had been true all those years. How else could she have run into Violet so frequently? The scientist in her rebelled against the improbability of it all.

"Psychic, remember. I knew I would find you here."

"Psychics don't exist," Amy said monotonously. She didn't have the enthusiasm to muster a harsh critique. Not anymore.

"And yet you can't prove nonexistence." To think the violet haired girl learned some of the tenants of logic and applied it correctly. For while Amy could prove existence, she couldn't prove nonexistence. There would always be a possibility, no matter how small.

"I can't," Amy agreed. "Why did you come here? What do you want with me?" _Didn't you already screw up my life enough the last time I saw you?_ The last question went unasked but not unacknowledged.

"It was chance that drew me to you in the bar. It was fate all along. I'm supposed to help you somehow."

"There's no such thing as fate," Amy argued. She was not in the mood for a philosophical discussion yet she could not let Violet's inaccuracies go by unchallenged.

"You care more for fact and proof than what you can feel. It's making you miserable."

She was miserable. It did not take much emotional intelligence to determine that. She radiated pain. But it wasn't for the reason Violet supposed.

"My husband died," Amy broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

They fell into another long silence, both staring out over the loch. Ripples formed under the influence of the wind, tiny waves that lapped upon the sandy shores.

"What if I could make you happy again?" Violet asked at long last.

Amy did not deign an answer, instead keeping her eyes focused on the distant shore. There was a dog and owner, seemingly careless to the pain of life. Of love and loss.

"How?" Amy asked. She could feel it already. That gravitational pull Violet held over her body. The girl with the violet hair enticed her and drew her in even as Amy resisted everything she was. She was too different, too abnormal. She did not fit into Amy's world.

Everything she represented was reckless and stupid and Amy couldn't go into that dark space again. Not without Penny and Bernadette to pull her back out of it.

She was already falling. Falling hard and falling fast. Because there was no backing out. Not for her and not anymore. If Violet said she could make Amy happy again, she might not believe her, but Amy did know she could make her feel alive again. Maybe even alive enough to forget the pain of her husband's death for one second.

She would grasp at straws for one second of freedom.

"Let go of your Kantian paradigm," Violet said. She wrote something on a piece of paper and put the crumpled ball into Amy's hand, curling her fingers around it. "Trust me. Let yourself fall. Meet me at that location at 7am tomorrow. Be prepared to hike all day."

She slipped away as quickly as she came, a wraith dancing in the light of day. Amy looked in both directions but already the Violet haired girl was gone. Gingerly she fingered apart the creases in the paper and looked at the GPS coordinates. Easy enough to follow, she supposed.

That night she sat down to dinner by herself, her mind still awhirl of everything Violet told her. Everything the girl claimed.

"Yer dinner, lass," a Scottish accent so thick she could barely understand it said from behind her.

"Thank you," Amy mumbled as the server set the plate down in front of her. A bowl of soup and venison, it was not her normal food, yet little was normal.

The soup was thick and chock full of vegetables. The venison tough and full of flavor she was not accustomed to. She wanted beef but that was what there was to be had.

Amy woke up early with the sun. She packed two liters of water, lunch, and plenty of snacks in her backpack. To that she added a rain jacket, gloves, a hat, and her fleece. The weather this far north could be unpredictable at times. It was best not to tempt fate.

Her cell, fully charged, she plugged in the coordinates on her GPS and drove the rental car according to the directions.

Alone on the road, she could think. She followed the turns, the pavement becoming narrower until the road was the width of one and a half cars, the asphalt turning into hard-packed dirt.

She arrived at the location, a small dirt parking lot. Hers was the only car there. She parked and remained sitting inside, unwilling to face the chill outside.

A second car joined hers shortly and the girl with the violet hair stepped out.

"Ready?" Violet asked, shouldering a pack of her own.

"Ready," Amy confirmed.

There was no need for words, not as Violet led her along the well-trodden path. Yet for all the evidence of humanity, they passed not a single person. Early in the morning, they were all alone. The path climbed uphill gradually. Violet let Amy take the lead, and though she exercised occasionally, she was not well equipped for strenuous exertion.

As they ascended the trees grew smaller and eventually gave way to bushes and grass as the rose above the tree line, and then the bushes gave way as well. Only grass remained. More than once they crossed over streams, hopping from boulder to boulder to keep their feet dry.

It was tiring work, and yet she loved it. Took in the thrill of being all but alone. There was no need to talk. All that needed to be said was contained in the solidarity of their silent ascent.

As they climbed high enough, the grass too disappeared and was replaced by a field of boulders. The wind whipped her harshly, and only her hair, tied back, allowed her to see forward. She pulled on her fleece and buried her hands in the pockets, repeatedly clenching and unclenching them to keep her fingers warm.

One would think it to be winter except for the absence of snow banks.

"Where do I go from here?" Amy asked as the trail abruptly gave way. In the lead, she looked out over the distance into a vast expanse of nothingness. Fog lay faintly head. All was calm. Peaceful.

"See the pile of rocks ahead," Violet pointed to a spot at one o'clock. Amy saw the towering cone of rocks.

"Yes."

"It's called a cairn. Follow them." So she did. The rocky ground became more covered with boulders, broken into smaller fragments with the passage of time and exposure to the elements.

The peaks, once tall, now old and weathered, dying down. How sharply they must have risen into the sky, once upon a time. A geological masterpiece. Now, the mountains were crumbling down. Years of snow and wind breaking down even the most stubborn. The boulders turned into shards of white rock, and then the shards turned into larger pieces as well, until the entire ground was a bed of white rock with black veins.

She paid careful attention to each and every step, angling her body toward the nearest cairn, and as she approached one, spotting the next in the distance and trudging towards it.

No longer a sharp ascent uphill, she could breathe easily again as the ground leveled out.

She felt the effects of the uneven ground upon her knees. Once upon a time, it wouldn't have bothered her, but now it did.

As the sun crested in the sky, it ate away at the fog until Amy could see out in every direction. She stopped and turned. The bed of rock stretched in every direction, and beyond, peaks and valleys, all green and brown. It stretched out forever, giving an impression of vastness.

They could climb up and down the ridges all day and never come to the end. Eventually, they approached the nearest peak. Nothing lay beyond. The white rock became grey again. Shelters build of rock were the only evidence that people had been there before, that and the final cairn up ahead.

"Come on," Violet said, scrambling up the cement to stand at the highest point.

She held her hand down and Amy grasped it, allowing Violet to help pull her up.

With nothing, no rocks or hillsides to shelter them, the wind played even more heavily upon her skin. If it was not cold outside already, the wind solidified the deal. Yet for all it was harsh, it was beautiful.

Never before had she seen the untouched splendor of the Earth in it's most natural form. And it was glorious. Transformative.

Without knowing how or why, a smile formed on her face. She could take a panorama yet there was not a camera that existed that could capture all that surrounded her. It would lack the depth and the clarity, and even if a two dimensional picture could capture the third dimension, it could not capture the smell of the clean air, lacking the stench of London pollution, the feel of the wind playing at her skin, the ache in her feet from walking uphill. The sweat, even in the cold, beading against her skin. The taste of her salt on her lips.

"It's beautiful," Amy breathed out, and for a fleeting moment, she had that second of peace before it all came crumbling down.

Dave would have loved it up here, alone and beautiful. He would hold her to him, kiss her, tell her how much he loved her.

Only he wasn't there. He never would be. Crumpling to her knees, she sobbed, a howl carried away by the wind. Violet joined her, saying nothing, simply lending her silent support.

She was a force that could not be tamed, yet willingly she let Amy cry upon her shoulder until she couldn't cry anymore.

"That's it. Let it out," Violet soothed her.

As the warmth of their physical exertion deserted them, Amy shivered violently from the wind strong enough to kill.

"We need to get down from here," Violet said. "We can go back the way we came. Or we can go that way."

Violet pointed to off to the left.

To do a repeat of the past or to taste of the new. It was not a hard decision.

Amy slid down the cement until her feet alighted on the uneven ground, still covered with boulders.

She started walking left. Violet followed right behind her.

The boulders gave way shortly and Amy saw a trail, leading them on. Always moving forward.

She took the lead, walking through the grass as it grew up to her knees, almost disguising the path.

They descended gradually, and with it her sorrow.

They came to a fork in the trail.

"Which way?" Amy asked. They'd walked so far through the mist she was not even certain which way was which anymore. At least the sky was now clear.

To the right, there was a tall cliff face. Amy could see out over it. It was a long way down. The the left was a loch.

"That depends on you. I have ropes. We can rappel down," Violet said.

Amy remembered it. That feeling of being on the cliff face and lowering herself down. She remembered the thrill it cased. "It's a long descent, but a short walk from there."

"Or?" Amy asked. She didn't want to reclaim that part of her past.

What the rappelling led to, she could have a repeat of that. It nearly destroyed her reputation the first time around. Damned if she'd do it again.

And yet she also knew that if Violet told her to do it, she would. Her resistance when it came to that girl was ephemeral, if not nonexistent.

"We go left. See that saddle over there," Violet pointed to the low dip in the hill on the other side.

Hill wasn't the right word. It was a mountain.

"I see it." It was on the other shore of the loch.

"We end up there. It's the long way around, but there's no climbing."

"I say we take the long way around," Amy said.

She could walk, maybe not forever, and her feet already grew tired, but she could walk.

She turned and led the way, Violet falling into place behind her. As the curved land led them down towards the loch, it became damp. More often than not she had to ford her way over streams, oftentimes jumping to boulders beyond her immediate reach.

Dave, tall as he was, could have simply stepped. She had to jump to keep her feet dry.

Though the saddle appeared close, the going was slow. The trail became rockier and fraught with large boulders to either scale or walk around. Mix that with the water she tried to avoid and each step, each path, required forethought. It wasn't enough to walk blindly towards where they were going.

People didn't come here frequently. That much she could tell. The trail became harder to spot, and in places it disappeared entirely.

Halfway around the loch, Violet pulled her to a sandy bank.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked as the Violet haired girl dropped her pack onto the ground and stripped off her coat and her shirt.

"What do you think?" Violet's voice sang. The wind, no longer as harsh in the sheltered bowl, still created a chill in the already cold air. "I'm going for a swim."

She shucked her shoes and pants, standing in only her bra and underwear. Those disappeared last, leaving her as naked as the day she was born yet with no shame that Amy could see all of her. No worry that someone would stumble upon the and see. It was her and the earth and the air. Ultimate freedom.

Goose pimples dotted Amy's skin as she removed her clothing. Down to her bra and underwear, she was not sure she could remove more. The sun, high in the sky, provided little heat even with the lack of cloud cover. The sand was freezing on her feet as she stripped.

Two small layers left and she would be as naked as Violet, yet she was no longer a blushing virgin. Her husband and her doctors had seen all parts of her. They were well and truly alone in a vast expanse of space.

There could be no shame, no wrong, committed there. She unhooked her bra and let it fall forward onto her pile of clothes. Her nipples instantly pebbled in the cool air, drawing to diamond points that were almost painful. Not arousal but an automatic, physiological reaction none the less.

Her underwear dropped away and she stood there, completely bared. If someone came to one of the ridges above them, they could look down and see her free of all inhibitions. Something about Violet was even more potent than her favorite libations.

Free of all inhibition.

Free of all pain and sorrow and inhibition.

Violet grabbed her hand and ran towards the water.

The liquid, only two degrees above freezing, burned against her skin. Burned like fire licking all over her body. She tried to stop and pull back onto dry land but Violet's momentum led her forward, a force too strong to stoop.

Then the ground sharply fell away and her head sunk beneath the surface. Her arms, flailed as she pulled up for air.

Baptism by icy fire.

Already the blood stopped pumping through her fingers and toes, sacrificing the extremities to keep her core body temperature high. It was a physiological response to keep her alive. To keep her heart pumping and it drove her metabolic rate insane. She could catalog every process down to the cellular level but all she could think about was getting out of the water. Getting back onto land. Nothing mattered but to be warm and dry again.

Her feet regained their footing as she got past the dropoff and she ran to shore, her body collapsing onto the cold sand.

Without being in the water, the previously cold air felt suddenly warm, until a gust of wind came and she was violently cold. Violet dropped down right beside her, and on instinct Amy curled up into what little warmth the other woman offered.

They lay there for a minute, their bodies entangled, not in a sexual dance, and not of passion, but of a survival instinct strong enough to triumph over all other thoughts of modesty and inert social conditioning.

They she laughed. Truly laughed. Baptized by fire in a loch in the highlands she was reborn anew. Not of pain and sorrow. Not of regret. Not of anger for being cheated out of what should have been hers for a much longer time to come.

She laughed of the thrill. Of feeling alive. At the warm skin surrounding hers and the feminine scent. The sand scratched them, coating their wet bodies.

The rubbing would be painful later but her nerves were dulled by the cold and all there was left was to feel and to be alive. To be well again.

She didn't know who moved first. Whether it was her or Violet mattered not. Only that their skin became even more pressed together as she felt unfamiliar curves over the length of her body and frozen, blue lips breathing life onto hers. A kiss. But not just a kiss. A dance of tongue and saliva, mixing and shooting fire and heath through her body. That automatic response to the physical stimulation. Hands, trailing down her body, fingers dancing against her skin. The wet beads and sand on the skin she touched, soft and fragile and strong all at the same time.

Life and love and loss were all one and the same, but there was no pain to it anymore. No guilt. No sense that she was committing some sort of betrayal. All that remained was a heady intoxication that devoured and consumed. That torrid dance of lovemaking to enflame her loins and soothe her soul.

Her nipples, sensitized by the razor cold, exploded at the brush of a thumb over them, and then she, too, was lost to the edge. Lost easily and unexplainably.

And then drawn back. Back to life. Only it was different now. She stood and brushed the off the sand caked to her skin as best she could. There was no way to get rid of it entirely, but she tried her best.

They stood, and she started dressing, but Violet's hand clutching hers stilled her, and she turned where the other woman looked.

There, not thirty feet from them, stood a reindeer.

Stay away from wildlife. It was basic, simple knowledge. Violet and Amy stilled, watching the reindeer as warily as it watched them, the interlopers in an otherwise deserted land.

Violet took a half step forward and Amy followed. The reindeer focused entirely on their movement, and she felt as if her heart was going to beat straight out of her chest. They should put on their clothes and remove themselves from the animal, yet she could not. Violet's grip on her hand would not let her, and while she could have easily broken it, she wasn't going to. Not now. Not after everything.

They kept quiet, and with infinite patience approaching the beast as non threateningly as they could. After awhile, the reindeer resumed drinking, not even caring about their presence. A sound in the distance drew it's attention, but not them. It was accustomed to them.

In a place remote and far removed from hunters, a place too cold and harsh most of the year for big predators to live, the creature was the top of the food chain. It had nothing to fear from them.

It started walking straight toward them. They were in it's path. Amy stood, transfixed and spellbound, as that much muscle came her way. The antlers. The excitement. She'd never seen one in real life before, and now she was only five feet away. Then three. Then two.

Then it was still headed straight at her and Violet, they the two nuisances standing in it's path.

She pulled Violet aside at the last minute to keep the antlers from hitting her stomach. It was an inch away from her finger tips, and close enough she could see the matted skin, the loss of hair on the wild reindeer.

Magnificent though it was, it bore the scars of the harsh northern climate. It was dirty and unclean yet spectacular. Assured in every movement it made. There where few creatures ventured, it reigned supreme above them all.

"Wow!" Amy breathed out once it was gone, far away from them, climbing up the slopes.

"Wow!" Violet repeated.

They brushed the crusted sand off themselves as best they could and redressed. It took awhile longer to reach the saddle, and once they did, they climbed more.

And then, over the top, was the parking lot below. Three or four miles away yet, Amy could have cried tears of relief.

She didn't realize how tired she was standing there. Her feet were sore, and they'd been walking straight for hours, aside from a ten minute lunch break.

She'd never exercised that much in one day in her life.

The parking lot with their cars was no longer empty. As it grew later, other people came, and some she could see in the distance, only starting to make their way up hill.

She checked her watch. It was only three in the afternoon. Not late at all, she felt like it was evening already.

"Thank you," she told Violet profusely as they reached the parking lot. "I needed that. Thank you."

"You're welcome," the Violet haired girl said.

Amy wasn't sure where they were supposed to go from there. Did she say something? Didn't she? She was entirely uncertain of the protocol.

"I guess this is goodbye," Amy said, standing by the rental car, keys in hand.

"For now," Violet said. "We'll see each other again."

Amy wanted to ask how and why, but as she'd come to learn, somethings were inexplicable, escaping even the most rational of minds. Not all that was known was known through reason alone. Heart and head, in conflict yet acting in synchronicity.

Because when Violet said they'd meet again, Amy didn't doubt her. Not this time.

The thrill and the feeling of being alive without the toxicity. She finally captured it. Violet drove away, and she followed not far behind.

She stopped by the hostel to shower and collect her second bag, the water warming her veins and breathing new life into her overtaxed body.

Maybe she was already checked out, but she sat in the small, cozy library, her body sinking onto the furniture. She needed the rest.

A couple hours later, it was time to go. She returned the rental car and walked across the street to the train station. There was a half hour before her train would come, so she sat down at a bench and waited.

Two more people joined her, each of them in solitude, and that was it. They boarded the train as it made it's brief stop. Her ticket checked, she made her way towards her bunk for the long, overnight trip back to London.

She stowed her two small bags under the bed and brushed her teeth in the sink, the bare minimum effort required to ensure good hygiene before she could fall asleep. The sun was almost below the horizon, and she watched the Scottish countryside blur by as the train picked up speed.

She spotted the sheep outside. Count the sheep to fall asleep.

Amy settled between the warm sheets and her head rested atop the pillow. She turned off the lights. Sleep would claim her quickly, and she was lucky to be small enough to fit easily onto the narrow bed. The darkness of her cabin and the gentle rocking of the train lured her to sleep and soothed her sore muscles.

She was awakened with a coffee delivery in the morning and the liquid woke her up. She changed into her work clothes, a hard feat in the small compartment of the moving train, and then opened up the blind, letting in the sun.

The green countryside was gone, replaced by stone and brick, grey and brown all around. A concrete jungle.

She ate her breakfast and waited, checking her phone for the location. They were in Wembley. It would not be much longer until she arrived back into Euston station.

The train got into the station, but familiar with traffic patterns, Amy knew better than to try and fit herself plus her bags onto the underground.

She took the bus, climbing to the top of the double decker and finding a seat towards the back.

Even in the morning clouds hung overhead blocking out the sun, a promise of rain to come. The architecture, relics of the Georgian and Victorian eras, stretched out endlessly, often plastered by modern signs. A mix of old and new, a seemingly transition in one of the oldest cities in the world.

She remembered the first time she got on one of the iconic double decker buses. She remembered the way her husband laughed at her enthusiasm as she led them to the top and took a seat at the very front, looking out. It was new and exciting, iconic to be a tourist in the city that would become her home. The city that marked a new and exciting phase in her life.

After the first couple of times the enthusiasm died down, until she no longer cared at all. It was normal, an aspect of every day life. There was nothing special about it. She would later even wonder why Penny and Bernadette asked her if she'd ever ridden in them. It would be like asking them if they drove their car every day to work. It was simply a given.

Yet as she looked out at the familiar city, she knew a shift occurred that weekend. She knew what it was to live and what it was to die. If she stayed, she would die on the inside.

The city of life once held meaning to her. It was where she and her husband started over. It might not be where their children were born, but they would never remember living in LA. They were only a month old when they arrived in London, and thus London was their home. The parks were where they played as children and it was where their schools were.

It was their home.

She and Dave had their jobs there.

The city breathed new life into her and her family.

And then her husband died and it was all taken away. Instead of giving life it was a reminder of death, the thousands of bodies buried below the very ground everyone walked upon, not knowing of the mass graveyard lost to time in all but the memories of a few.

That last year she'd died on the inside. Violet breathed new life into her at the moment she needed it the most. The recklessness and the thrill, it was not to be feared.

She knew what she had to do.

London was her home for awhile, but it was no longer. She couldn't stay. If she remained to long, she would loose herself again. She would die on the inside. She would go about her life, pretending she was alright when really she was hollow. There was no moving forward. To much changed to ever go back to how she was.

Dave and her children were her home, and with him dead and the twins at college, there was nothing left to tie her to the city.

Because home was where her friends and family were.

They left her all alone.

* * *

AN:

To guest reviewer: You will eventually find out what happened to Sheldon.


	64. Chapter 64

She went about her day at work as if nothing happened that weekend. As if she had not just undergone a fundamental paradigm shift. When she got home that evening, she looked to see if Caltech was hiring. They were not. Curious, however, a cursory look at the admin rendered some familiar faces. People there still knew her and had recruited her to Caltech before. They had a fairly friendly relationship and, not knowing what made her do it, she sent an enquiring after a job.

She waited two days for a response. The neurobiology department was not hiring but there wasa space for her, if she was willing to take it. Without her seniority it would be a reduction in salary. It would be hard but if she went back to Caltech she could live in California again and see Penny and Bernadette frequently. Now she was alone, she missed them more than ever. By moving back, she would be able to stamp out her loneliness.

She knew it could not be the same as when they left. Howard and Bernadette had two children, who would consume a lot of their time. Penny and Leonard had a young child and she knew from experience that would consume a great deal of their time, and with Penny gaining a name for herself because of Serial Apist, she was also busier touring the country to attend various signings and panels. Raj and Emily broke up years ago although she and Dave were already in London by that time. From what little she'd spoken to him, he still did not have that permanent someone in his life despite his unending attempts. She felt sorry for him and lucky at her own fortune at the same time. Even though her love of her family hurt like hell, at least she knew what it was like to have had them at home for a time.

She just had to figure out what she wanted to do. One thing was certain. Before she could put in her notice at UCL or decline President Siebert's offer, she first had to go through all of her possessions and decide what to do with them. She would finally have to go through Dave's possessions, and it was only the move that forced her to do it.

The clothes she had no use for. She kept the tux he wore at their wedding and donated the rest of his clothing to charity shops. There was no point in keeping and shipping clothing that no one would wear. She sent a list of the titles of his physics books to Cassie and shipped the ones Cassie wanted to her. The newer books she sold, and the rest she donated. The things they bought together she kept, yet as she looked around the house, she realized how little they purchased together, mainly trinkets and souvenirs from their trips throughout Europe. Most of the furniture and kitchen supplies were Beth's even after Amy redecorated. Because of that she was not attached to most of the pieces. Aside from a few portraits and prints all their pictures were digital. His teaching materials she had already given back to his university for his replacement to use. He had various trinkets, but he had once told her that most of his childhood belongings he got rid of when his first wife left him, thinking them too painful a reminder of his childhood sweetheart. He'd bought everything anew when he moved to California. He left it behind when they returned to London. Very few of the items were theirs, simply inherited.

With the clothes, books, and teaching materials gone, Amy discovered that Dave owned very little. What she did not get rid of, she managed to fit into two medium size boxes. Among the few possessions she kept were some family jewelry pieces he gave to her, a watch, his diplomas, and his chess set. Beyond that there was not much she wanted to keep.

Once she was done sorting through his belongings, she did hers as well. She was attached to fewer items than she would have thought. Most of her clothes and various scraps of paper she collected throughout the years she binned.

She tackled the closets next. She'd saved toys throughout the years, the ones that weren't broken or with missing parts, partially out of sentimentality and partially out of a hope for future grandchildren to play with. Keeping them was no longer worth the expense and effort of moving. What did not sell online she donated. The hardest was the child art, though that, too she condensed down to her few favorite pieces, and not every scrap of paper one or the other or her children decided to draw a blob on. After everything was properly donated, recycled, sold or thrown away, her decision was clear. Inadvertently, she cleaned out the entire house. Beyond the furniture she still used there was not much left.

Subconsciously she already made her choice. She was ready to move, the organizing only confirmed what she already knew deep down in her heart. She sent her acceptance of the position at Caltech and wrote her resignation notice to UCL. After the fall semester she would be leaving.

It felt sudden and so right.

Then it struck her. She made all those decisions without even telling her children she was moving back to California.

She called them, and though they were upset by her abrupt decision to move, they were both settled into their respective universities to know they were happy where they were. She did not have the heart to tell them she was selling the house because she knew they would be upset when she sold their childhood home. Instead she asked them which of their belongings they were attached to, keeping the books and awards and artwork they were fond of and boxing it up to move with her. Once again she would donate the rest. She could not take much with her halfway across the world and she only had the space for the most important things.

As expected, her zone 2 house sold the moment she put it on the market. In fact, there was even a bidding war over it that went in her favor, driving the price up over her well-researched asking price. She signed the contract on the final sale.

As she was cleaning out the rest of Cassie's room, she found a box that was already there. Not able to account for it, she opened it up and was surprised that there was a handwritten note from Dave.

She could not think of a single gift they could have given Cassie that she had not either put into the keep or donate boxes. Curiously, she opened the letter.

 _Happy Birthday, my dearest Cassie. I am incredibly proud of you for pursuing theoretical physics. Do not make the same mistake I did when I gave up on my dream. In this box is every publication by our favorite physicist, Dr Sheldon Cooper. I know you have never understood why we have to keep this a secret from your mother and brother, and perhaps I should not tell you this, but I believe you are old enough to know. I met Dr Cooper on one occasion but your mother knew him very well. You have already seen the video of the conference where the question I asked Dr Cooper and was called stupid in return. I have not told you about your mother's association with Dr Cooper because it pains her. She does not like to talk about it but she and I met not long after she and Dr Cooper broke up. She was upset with him and I messed up our third date by talking incessantly about Dr Cooper when she wanted to forget about him. I even asked her to introduce me to him. I was a fool and I am thankful to your mother each and every day that she gave me a second chance. Despite my luck, I cannot help but be amazed by Dr Cooper's research and I have collected every article he has ever published. I know your regard for the man's work is equal to mine, and as you pursue theoretical physics, I believe you should have them now to learn from. What you do with them is up to you, and if you wish to tell your mother you may. Happy birthday, love. Your father is very proud of you._

By the end of the note she was crying. He'd kept up with Sheldon's work even after they'd married. He never told her. He did not want to hurt her but finding out about the deception hurt more. She loved Dave. They were married. She choose him over Sheldon because she loved him and wanted a life with him. She'd assured him of that on countless occasions, and still he'd kept a secret from her and it felt like betrayal. She didn't want it to, because she missed him, but the new knowledge still stung.

She thought they told each other everything. She had no secrets from him. He even knew about the time she panicked and almost called off the their wedding two days before because of a brief conversation she had with Sheldon. She knew he liked Sheldon's works and Sheldon was his favorite physicist, but Dave had not mentioned him in years and she thought the obsession was gone. She would not have cared if he talked about Sheldon occasionally. She was mature enough to hear his name and not break down—she had a new life, the life she wanted—yet he kept it a secret from her and worse still he had their daughter lie to her as well.

If he lied to her about that then what else had he lied to her about?

She had to calm down and be rational. The only reason he kept it a secret was because he did not want to hurt her but the truth was she had not even thought about Sheldon in years. She had not seen him since the day she ran into him on the stairwell when she told him she was moving to London. After they broke up, she thought about him less and less, especially once their friends left him out of the stories they related to her. When she and Dave moved to London and only infrequently talked to them, she thought about Sheldon even less until she stopped thinking about him entirely. There was the brief time she drafted an email to him congratulating him on winning the Nobel Prize in physics but when Dave came in and told her about Beth's death she forgot all about him again. He no longer crossed her thoughts because she had a husband she loved immeasurably and children she doted on. Her job was fulfilling, she was making new friends, and her life seemed to be settled into its place.

Then suddenly she was alone and unsure what to do with herself. She realized she was not attached to the house after living there for nearly two decades and that California, for how long ago it was when she last lived there, was her home still. That was where her best friends lived. Without her family in London, she had no reason to stay there. She did not want to be lonely any more.

California was home and impulsively she put in her resignation letter and got a position at Caltech.

She wanted to go home and she no longer had a reason not to.

Thoughts of Sheldon and the fact that he might still work at Caltech did not even cross her mind until the reminder just now.

She found the physics department faculty page and was about to search and see if Sheldon still worked there when she stopped herself.

Nineteen years ago was the last time she lived her life by Sheldon's schedule. She broke up with him because she could not keep doing that any longer. Their differences were too great. Then she met Dave and fell in love, and with a few hurdles in between, they married and had the twins and she had the family she wanted. They moved far away and she forgot about Sheldon.

Even though she had not thought about him in years his image was still seared into her memory now she thought about him, though the lines were a bit blurred. He really was handsome, tall and lanky, though not as tall and lanky as Dave, and he was handsome in a different way. He was her first boyfriend and the first man she fell in love with. A part of her would always love him even as she walked away. He was comfortable, preferring above all else to maintain the status quo. If not for her need for children, she suspected she would have went back to him eventually and made up. They would have worked things out otherwise, like they always did, her pulling him forward in their relationship bit by bit but never enough forward movement to fully satisfy her and just enough change to make him uncomfortable.

Had she stayed with Sheldon she would not have Cassie or Felix and she would never regret her decisions that led to them. They were the most precious part of her life and everything that brought them to her was meant to be. With Sheldon, she would never have had children because Sheldon did not want them and what Sheldon wanted he got, and she would have resented him eventually. But that was a counterfactual argument and it would not do to dwell on what could have been in another world. Until a little over a year ago, she'd liked the world she'd lived in. She was in love with her husband, maybe not passionately but deeply, and enamored with her children even as they became teenagers.

A part of her would always love Sheldon but she could say with certainty she loved Dave more. She did not scroll down. Seeing if Sheldon still worked at Caltech would change nothing. Regardless of where he worked, she resigned from UCL and took the job at Caltech. She already signed and faxed the paperwork to HR. She would be starting at Caltech for the spring semester regardless of whether Sheldon still worked there of not. If he did, she would run into him and find a way to be civil. They were friends once, before he broke her heart; she was mature enough to be his friend again. She moved on with her life and she could not continue letting that specter of her past control her. Perhaps a small part of her was even eager to see and talk to him again. Even more than Dave she was able to talk to him at an intellectual level no one else could match. They were friends long before they were boyfriend/girlfriend for a reason after all.

However, if he moved to a different university and she never saw him again she would be fine with that outcome as well. With almost twenty years of silence between them she would not be disappointed if he was not there. They were nothing to each other, had been nothing to each other for a long time. She accepted that long ago when she started dating Dave even though her heart belonged to Sheldon. Now, her heart belonged more fully to her late husband.

She closed out of the webpage without scrolling down. She did not have to know. Whichever of the two outcomes was to follow when she returned to Pasadena, she would leave it to fate. As a scientist she did not believe in fate in the traditional sense, and certainly not as the three Moires with the scissors and the strings of life, but she also did not need to know in advance. Perhaps it was foolish and against her nature not to prepare for all eventualities, and yet it was what it was. She needed a change in her life and one way or another she was going to get it. Her house was already sold. She would be moving out and staying with Ann for the last couple of weeks before it was time to leave.

Everything was changing and for the first time in her life, she felt like she was ready to take charge of without prep work and careful planning. She would be swept along by the tide of her impulsive, irreversible decisions and let the dice fall where they may so to speak.

* * *

AN:

Loeh: There will be closure for Sheldon. Since the main thread I pulled in this story is that Amy really wanted children and Sheldon really didn't, they couldn't have been together here. However, in cannon I adore them together (and omg that season finale is still driving me crazy). Amy is my fav.


	65. Chapter 65

"This is really it. You're leaving tomorrow," Ann said over dinner. Her flight to LA was the next day. The semester was over, finals were graded and her research was finished. In two days she would be back in California. Leonard and Penny would have offered her space in their house until she went house hunting on her own but she never told them she was moving back. She intended to but she just never seemed to be able to go through with it. When had she stopped calling Penny on a weekly basis? When did their weekly conversations become monthly conversations, and then sporadically only for particularly life altering news? Added to that she remembered from the one and only time she stayed with them Sheldon had a room in their house. It would be odd living in the same place as him. She was not sure she was up to the task of pretending everything was normal when in reality it was anything but. If they knew she was coming back they'd insist she stay with them instead of in a hotel and she was not ready to face staying in the same house with Sheldon. Not yet. She couldn't be around him when she was still grieving for her husband.

"I'm really leaving," Amy confirmed. She already checked into her flight and arranged a taxi to take her to the airport the next day. "I'm going home." Home. How strange that word was.

"It won't be the same here without you," Ann commented.

"I'll miss you a lot," Amy said. Ann was a good friend to her over the years, even if Penny would always be her best friend. "Thanks for letting me stay here for the last couple of weeks. This is much better than a hotel."

"It's nothing, Amy. You're welcome to come and stay here whenever."

She expressed her thanks again anyways. She was already packed, and had double and triple checked to make sure she did not miss anything. Everything was in order. After dinner, she planned for an early bedtime as she would be making her way to the airport early the next morning.

She was awake and gone before Ann was even up for the day, so she left one last note expressing her thanks for being allowed to stay there. The taxi came at the scheduled time and she was on the way to the airport. Eager as she was to leave and return to California, she felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she looked out the window at the now familiar scenery, the architectural style, the abundant greenery, the shape of the cars. As the taxi took her further from Anne's house, Amy closed her eyes. She did make the right decision to leave. She had to be certain of it. She could not stay in the house she and Dave shared together, not now that he was gone. It hurt too much for too long. She cleaned it out, put a few items in storage en route to California via boat. They'd arrive not too long after her. Most of their possessions she'd purged. She could buy them anew once she got to Pasadena.

After so long away it was strange to be going back permanently. It was what she wanted. Her decision. She'd thought about it long and hard and decided it was what she wanted. She would be nearby her parents again, but hadn't she spent most of her adult life living close to them and ignoring them anyways? That hassle could be taken care of. She'd have to visit her mother and father periodically, but she would do it no more than necessary. Without the children around, she would feel less of an obligation to visit them frequently.

She picked up a rental car until she bought her own. This was it. She was really back for good. She arrived at the hotel and checked in. She still had not told her friends of her return. This was something she needed to do on her own. She needed to stand on her own two feet by herself, to prove that she was still capable of going about her life without a partner.

Her realtor toured her though many different houses, but it was not hard to find her favorite. It was small, but it still had two extra bedrooms, a necessity for when her children returned home on holiday. That was if they returned instead of finding some other way to occupy their holidays. It was also a little under her price range. It was not spacious, the bedrooms and bathrooms being a bit on the smaller side, but the kitchen was large enough for her needs and he size of the house was cozy. After living in London for so long, a small space no longer bothered her. She signed the contract and her loan was approved. The house would be hers in three weeks.

With that task taken care of, it was easy enough to find a car and return the rental. That was it. She was settled in Pasadena again.

Only it wasn't quite as simple as she first thought. She was baffled by the sheer choices of foods in the supermarket. More than once she was surprised, and made a bit uncomfortable, by the friendliness of complete strangers, and caught off guard that the price on the register was always more than the price on the tag. She'd forgotten what it was like to drive everywhere, as opposed to practically nowhere.

More than once she'd had to think about which side of the road to end up on when she turned, to say nothing of the number of times she set off her windshield wipers during the sunny California days when she meant to turn on her blinkers. She'd eavesdrop onto conversations, not on purpose, but she now noticed that people spoke much louder than they did in England (and walked louder, and were louder at practically everything), and become confused as to why a left turn would be difficult until she remembered everything except the gas and break pedals were reversed. She marveled at the new ease of automatic.

The little things in life that she'd noticed when she first got to London now bothered her about America. The uncertainty of how much to tip. Confusion when the bill was brought to her straight away without having to ask for it. Trying to relearn the coins and having bills that were all the same size, having to read the number to tell the difference between a fiver and a tenner. That silent urge to berate people for standing on the left side of the escalator. The sheer amount of sunshine and not having to carry an umbrella everywhere. People preferring the exchange of mobile numbers rather than Whatsapp contacts. More than once people asked her what her accent was; she no longer sounded American, but her accent was not quite English either. She called dinner tea and the cashier looked at her like she was crazy. She didn't belong quite the same way as she used to before she left. Los Angeles was a lot different than she remembered. It changed so much and left her behind. Yet neither could she have been content to stay in London. She was at home in two places; she belonged in neither.

A couple days into the new semester she still had not run into Sheldon. She was surprised. It was clear everyone at the university knew him by name, but if her inquiries got back to him, she did not want him to know she'd been asking around. She was not sure how she felt. She loved her husband, but he died a couple of months ago. She no longer felt the need to curl up and cry over it. She was recovering from the loss and moving on. Yet her anxiety over running into Sheldon made her feel guilty, as if she was betraying her late husband's memory.

Her feelings towards Sheldon were less clear. Try as she might to deny it, a part of her had returned to California to see him again. Sure there were other ties to California: it was her home originally, it was where her closest friends lived, there were great research opportunities for her at Caltech, Beth was long-since dead and her children off to college meaning nothing tied her to London anymore. But why move, why change the status quo, when it worked well for years? The truth was, there were times in her solitude when it was not Dave's presence she found herself missing but Sheldon's. It was strange. She went years without thinking about him or missing him, and now her husband was gone memories of her past seemed to resurface with shocking clarity. Sheldon and the way he understood her better than anyone else in the world, even better than Dave. She felt treacherous for missing Sheldon when she should only be missing Dave, and yet she could not control the way she felt.

She felt guilty for not yet having the courage to tell Penny and Bernadette. She resolved to call them in a week once she moved into her new house. Everything was a mess.

Besides that it was silly to miss a man she long ago lost touch with. He could be married with children of his own for all she knew. When she heard he won the Nobel Prize, she had not looked into it much more closely. With Beth's death, she never even had the chance to send the email she wrote to him congratulating him. She opened up the email, still in the drafts file all these years later, and deleted it just like she should have a long time ago. It was for the best, after all. She moved to California to start anew.

She found Leonard, Howard, and Raj in the cafeteria, finally ready to let her friends know she was back. She had not seen them yet and they were surprised to see her. Back in Pasadena two weeks and she still had met up with Penny and Bernadette yet. They would tell Sheldon. Perhaps that was where her hesitance came from.

"Amy?" Leonard asked, "What are you doing here? I mean, it's good to see you again," he hugged her, "and I hope you're doing better now, but why are you here?"

She hugged the three boys hello. "I work here now. Felix and Cassie both left for uni, so I just thought it was time for me to move back here."

"Wow. That's fantastic!" Raj enthused, "but I'm offended you didn't tell us you were coming back."

"The move was sudden," Amy said. It was the truth. She only had two months from her decision until she arrived in LA.

"It's good to have you back. Bernie'll be excited."

It was not clear where she stood with Howard. After the last time they talked, she was not sure whether he would ever forgive her. Yet if he was still mad at her, she could detect no sign of it. She determined that Bernadette and Howard resolved whatever issues they had from Bernadette's time away. That had been over ten years ago, she realized with a start.

Amy smiled at their enthusiasm. She could not remember the reasons why she failed to tell her friends she was moving back. They were happy to see her, and she was happy to see them again in a way she did not expect.

There was still one question lingering in the back of her mind begging for an answer. She couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Where's Sheldon?" Crap. Now the boys would be guaranteed to tell Sheldon she was curious and asked about him. So much for her previous silence.

"Actually, he's not here anymore."

Disappointment. A pressing, crushing feeling of disappointment nearly overcame her. She should not feel disappointed Sheldon was gone. Without keeping track of him, he could be anywhere really. She should not be surprised he was somewhere else. Any university would gladly take him on, after all.

"Oh," she said, the disappointment clouding her ability to speak.

"He's away on a sabbatical at UCL. He left two weeks ago," Howard said.

No. That couldn't be right. It was too coincidental. The day Sheldon left Pasadena to go work at UCL she left UCL to go to Pasadena. It simply could not be. She believed in science and facts, not coincidence.

"Why?" she asked, not sure how much to read into the information. Why would Sheldon go to London? She was certain she never told him where she worked, and she knew her friends never gossiped with him about her. Penny's inclination to gossip had her convinced of that much. What motive could he have in going to London? Did he know she was widowed? Was that the cause? She knew nothing about him anymore nor he about her and she could not allow herself to read too much into the information.

"Well, Sheldon's had a rough couple of years, ever since he won the Nobel Prize actually. He hasn't been the same since."

And then they told her everything they knew, and she could barely keep her shock in check, barely listen to their story without frequently interrupting, because the man they were talking about . . . that simply wasn't Sheldon.

As Amy knew would inevitably happen after she sought out the guys, not an hour later she received texts from Penny and Bernadette welcoming her back. She could not tell if they were upset at her for not letting them know she was moving, but either way they wanted to meet up with her for dinner.

"Amy!" Penny exclaimed, and she was draw into a long hug.

"Penny," Amy said in return, an inexplicably she was crying in joy at being reunited with her bestie.

"It's so good to have you back," Bernadette said. Her hug was more constrained than Penny's, though it was warm. It was like coming home.

"It's good to be back."

It was the first time she said those words and meant it.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us you were coming here. You should have stayed with Leonard and I. And our daughter! Oh our daughter will be so excited to finally get to meet her Godmother! Thank you for sending her all those presents, by the way. She won't stop bugging us to take her to England."

There was no containing Penny's enthusiasm and Amy basked in the glow and warmth it created. She could let Penny talk and talk and never grow bored. She radiated energy.

"Why didn't you tell us you were moving back?" Bernadette asked when Penny paused long enough for her to speak.

"I don't know. It's been tough for me. I guess I needed to do everything myself, but if I told you guys, you'd insist on helping. I don't know. Now I think I should have told you." Especially now she knew Sheldon was no longer around to run into, a dark part of her mind silently added.

The gravity of her words were belayed by the amusement generated by Penny's exclamation of "Amy! You have an accent!"

* * *

 **AN:** I don't say this enough but thanks to everyone for reviewing, following, and favoriting. I didn't think anyone would stick with me this long. I've been getting lots of questions about Sheldon, and the next chapter is told entirely from his point of view as you learn what happened to him during all this time (evil teaser, I know).

Guest 2: Amy is coming back. I thought Amy wouldn't be thrilled to live in London, but it was hard to write because London is my favorite city. Now it seems natural that she wants to move home.

SusanaAlcira: Nope.

Guest 3: I update every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, though lately my Friday updates seem to frequently become MIA.

Ehhh: Breaking up an OTP can be hard for some people (I can't read stories that separate Elizabeth and Darcy), but I think you'll be glad you stuck around.


	66. Chapter 66

AN: Yes this is a monstrously long chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

 **Sheldon's Story, Part 1**

He did not know what it meant to miss someone until she came along. He never noticed how each time after seeing her he was more productive at work. How equations that once eluded him came easily. For a genius who prided himself on his ability to recognize patterns, he did not know how he missed that one simple fact: everything came easier to him after seeing Amy Farrah Fowler.

He had not thought her serious when they first broke up. Her prolonged distance from him convinced him it was real, doubly so when she returned to him everything he ever gave her. They hit a sticking point in their relationship. He refused to ever have children; Amy was already distraction enough from his pursuit of the Nobel Prize; children would derail his dream entirely.

He saw her kissing another man. He did not mean to spy on them and his mother would be ashamed of him if she knew. His jealously urged him to give into her demands and take her back, promise her whatever he needed to until he could once more call her his girlfriend.

The rational portion of his mind won out. For years Amy pushed him along, forcing him to change to deepen their relationship. Her last demand was too much. He simply could not give it to her. Not now. Not ever. She broke up with him and life went on. Only it didn't go back to the way it should have. He was a different person and it was all her fault. He was not the Sheldon Cooper of five years ago and although he tried to revert back, it failed.

So he sought her out, offered her the world, everything she ever demanded of him, and she flung it straight back in his face. He did not want children. He was not even certain about marriage, contrary to the engagement ring he kept safely stored away. Yet rather than loose Amy, he found that he was willing to give in to her demands. He knew how compromise with her worked; Amy always won. He would hate it, but he hated change even more. She changed him. She would change him again and again. He would not willingly allow change to happen. The change of no longer calling Amy his girlfriend was too much to bear. Yet even as he gave in it did not matter when she rejected his advances. He kissed her, more deeply and more thoroughly than he ever had before. He would have taken it all the way then and there, coitus and marriage and children. She pushed him away and banned him from her life.

Until she called him needing to be rescued, and in his panic about what would happen to her in her alcohol-addled state, he tracked the location of her iPhone and made Leonard drive him to pick her up. She was passed out on the front lawn of a house in a questionable part of LA when they got there. He took care of her, her knight in shining armor, and while she was not obligated to pay him back, he nevertheless expected her gratitude. She went back to ignoring him. Then they went on a date. No. Not a date. It was purely platonic. She wanted to be his girlfriend again, but still hurt over her he rejected her outright. Given time to come to his senses, he went back to her and she once more made clear he had no part in her life. He couldn't be friends with her anymore. Already troubled at dealing with his emotions, he couldn't be friends with her while she dated a man that wasn't him.

He fought the urge to be jealous about Amy's new boyfriend on the few times his friends would bring up the topic, but over time, tired of dealing with his newfound unpredictable emotions, they talked about Amy less and less in front of him until they did not mention her at all.

A year later, he did not even know she was getting married until three days before Leonard and Penny gave him notice they wouldn't be able to take him to a conference that weekend. He stupidly assumed he could convince them to take him anyways.

They said they were going to Amy's wedding.

That was it. It really was over. Though the termination clause of their relationship was long since signed with the proper notarization, a small part of him knew there was still a small chance they could be together again. That Amy would agree to his demands and accept the one thing he would never be able to give her. His cotillion training meant he knew that married women were forever out of reach. He was to much of a gentleman to try to win her back now. Amy moved on from him, and he resented her for it. His upbringing meant there was nothing he could do about it but sit back and absent himself from her life.

Even though she was out of his life and in theory he had more free time, his work suffered. Without the excuse of date night and arguments with Amy Farrah Fowler to consume his time, he had no excuse for why he failed to make progress at the same rate he did before she entered his life. Before Leonard, Howard, Raj, and later Penny. With that in mind he threw himself even further into his work. String theory no longer gave him the same enjoyment it used to but he set forth to discovery the mysteries of the universe and he was going to do it.

Months passed and he became more productive at work. How many extra hours he had when his time was not consumed making his girlfriend happy. Dr Gablehauser noticed and despite their mutual enmity offered him a raise. By that point he had not thought about her in a long time. That was, until he was turning the key in the lock when he heard Penny excitedly squeal from across the hall.

"Amy! You're pregnant? Congratulations!"

He could not classify the feelings those few words stirred. He simply hurried into his apartment where he could escape from the chaos of it all. It took two hours of kolinahr to clear his mind enough he felt he could concentrate again.

Surprisingly enough, none of his friends even mentioned Amy's pregnancy to him. Five months married and she was pregnant. Despite his research with Amy regarding the rate of gossip transmission, they never told him about it. He was a node completely isolated from the rest of the group, a single element in a non-connected set. He was not sure whether to be relieved or offended. Offended they did not tell him the most interesting gossip or relieved he did not have to once again dredge up the painful memories he now associated with Amy Farrah Fowler.

Her last name might not even be Fowler anymore. Illogical though it was, he refused to call her by any other name.

Three months later he understood the expression 'the world turned upside down' when he ran into Amy on the landing and she told him she was moving. To London, England. For good.

Not only would she be unavailable to him, she would be halfway around the world. The chances of them seeing each other were not great while they both worked at Caltech and purposefully avoided each other. With her in London and him in Pasadena, the chances they would ever see each other again were nonexistent.

He tried not to be obvious in the way his gaze ran over her body. He should not care, but he felt the need to search for the evidence. Through her baggy clothing, she could not have been far enough along to tell.

He did not like change. It scared him. That's why the relationship agreement stipulated neither party was allowed to engage in any form of cosmetic surgery or body modification. Her body would change. At least he would not have to be around to see it. It was the change he hated, after all, not the proof that Amy really had moved on without him.

They argued. He tried to forget the sudden nausea that overcame him when he thought of Amy's belly expanding, her ankles swelling, her breasts enlarging, throughout the course of the pregnancy he had no place in. Her body wasn't supposed to change. Ever. It should remain exactly as it was. Except even that wasn't true. Time would inevitably change her appearance if nothing else did.

The sudden news was too much for him to process all at once. He spent a solid week locked in his room before Penny convinced him to rejoin the world. By the time he did, all thoughts of Amy were gone. She left him. She married another man. She was pregnant by someone else. She was moving to another country. Everything that happened between them was her fault. She forced him to feel more affection for her than he ever wanted to, and then she destroyed him when she realized she could not mold him into her perfect mate.

He would not think about her. Instead, he would focus on what he set out to do: win the Nobel Prize. He was unwilling to compromise with Amy because he was unable to stomach the thought of doing anything that would set him back from his goal. He lost her and he refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she affected him that much. After the way she treated him, he refused to allow her to continue having influence over his life. Especially when she did not care about his.

Resolve firmly in place, Sheldon discovered he was capable of being more productive that he ever thought possible. Able to hold rigidly to his routine, his 'zone' became more of a permanent state than a temporary condition. Although he noted the passage of time it did not seem real. All he knew was that he spent months working and reworking his unified theory of the cosmos with barely any breaks. Leonard and Penny brought him food, took him to and from work, and he occasionally caught onto bits and pieces of their conversations.

"...Wack-a-doodle doing?"

"I don't know...leaps and bounds beyond anything..."

"...call...Mary...worried about him..."

"...don't be...breakthrough...impressive..."

Of course his work would be impressive if he could simply figure out the way to make it work. Everything was there. There was some crucial little step he was missing and once he figured it out, he would be well on his way to a Noble Prize. The solution was the elusive mathematical trick that would make everything work. Once he found it, he would have his life goal.

"...Noble Prize..."

"...think so..."

"...really worried..."

That was it. The final missing piece. He was done. If this breakthrough did not get him the Nobel Prize nothing would. 8.2 months later he was finally able to step back from his work to rejoin the real world. He did it. After months of agonizing over his theory, of incessant working and little sleep, he was exhausted. Brilliant minds never did rest. He wrote his paper in only two nights and submitted it for publication.

His friends seemed to be relieved to have him back as they should. He was the glue in their social group. He brought them all together and without him they would fall apart. Things in his life were finally on track again. His article was published and appeared to be gaining traction in the scientific community rapidly. He was invited to give more and more presentations, most of which he declined because he detested the difficulty of traveling. Living in Pasadena where he was most comfortable was difficult enough. Flying and staying in new hotels all the time was a trying thought and one he refused to participate in. Leonard even talked him into giving an interview for _Scientific American_ , though he had to dumb down his work considerably for their readership.

 _Star Trek_ , video games, comic books, and the new _Star Wars_ movie proved more than enough distraction in his time off work. He was back to his regular productivity but it was enough. He did what he set out to do and all that was left was for the Nobel Prize committee to recognize his brilliance. They would be idiots if they didn't.

Life became easy again, his friendships giving him companionship that, earlier in his life, he did not need. Still his friends baffled and confused him at nearly every turn, the immovable thorns in his side that he no longer wanted to function without; change in any form, after all, was undesirable.

It took four more years, but it happened. He received an official looking envelope in the mail and upon opening it, he knew all his work was at long last gaining the acclaim it deserved. He was brilliant and his ideas were leaps and bounds beyond the current research. If he was puzzled for months over this theory, it truly was a work of genius, further proof that he was more intelligent than any other life form. With the one potential exception of Stephen Hawking.

He called his mother to tell her the news. She was thrilled at his accomplishment. She might not understand his work but she was proud of him. And yet for the first time in years it felt like something was missing. He did not know what and he did not believe in intuition. Facts and evidence were important. Feelings were not.

He should have been ecstatic about the Nobel Prize. He deserved it. It was his life's goal and it was further proof that he was the most brilliant physicist in the world. No one was smarter than him and now he had a prize to prove it. Not even Stephen Hawking won the Nobel Prize. He should be gloating to anyone and everyone whether the wanted to listen to him or not.

Even lauding his accomplishment to Barry Kripke, proof that he was better than his nemesis in all the ways that mattered, did not give him the joy it should have. He loved being better than his rival. He loved gloating. For some strange reason he could not identify, he could not find it in himself to gloat over his achievement. It was almost as if the Nobel Prize lost it's luster before he'd even won it.

When he allowed feelings to enter into his calculations he was broken. He worked hard to purge them and the results were a success. He was finally a Noble Laureate in Physics, and at only forty-two, that was quite the accomplishment. 42. The meaning of life. He did not believe in coincidences but if he did, it would undoubtedly be one. At the end everything was left to random chance.

His family went with him to Stockholm to accept his award. He expected this moment would be filled with speeches and congratulatory audiences. It was. It was also full of long schedules. He was required to shake more hands than he ever wanted to, even to the point he knew there was not enough Purell in the world to rid his hands of the germs he accumulated in the hodgepodge group.

All the while the feeling that something was missing remained in the back of his mind, a feeling he could not shake no matter how hard he tried. He even checked his packing three times upon arriving in Stockholm. Not a single thing was missing. Everything was as it should be. Thirty-seven years after he first envisioned winning the Nobel Prize himself, he was there. He finally had everything he ever wanted.

Something was missing.

He did not realize what it was until his final night in Stockholm. As he stood up on the stage prepared to give his speech, his face searched the crowd, over ten times large enough to trample him to death, for familiar faces. His mother and Meemaw, his twin sister Missy and her husband, and his brother George Jr. They were all there to celebrate him and his accomplishment, because while they did not understand his work they did know the prestige associated with the Nobel Prize. They were proud of their brother for his accomplishments.

He saw all them in the audience, difficult though they were to make out under the harsh glare of the bright stage lights. No matter how many times his eyes scanned the room they failed to find the one face he wished was there more than anything else. The question was not what was missing but whom. He finally knew the answer to that nagging feeling in his gut ever since he received his acceptance letter. What was missing was a curvy brunette with glasses and a sense of fashion more conservative than his Meemaw's. She should be in the audience, his Amy Farrah Fowler.

She was no where to be seen because she did not exist. She would never have his name. Never wear the engagement ring Mary Cooper kept stored safely away. It was not that such events were impossible but rather improbable. He loved his family but he would gladly trade the presence of all five of them for one Amy Farrah Fowler.

He explained to his family time and again what his Nobel Prize was for, and they congratulated him again and again on his 'rocket science'. He was a theoretical physicist. He worked in string theory after his brief dabbling with dark matter. Amy might be a neuroscientist but she understood enough of his work to discuss it with him. He could tell her the minute details on his unified theory of the cosmos and she would understand. She would be able to ask follow up questions. She would know what his Nobel Prize was for. She would be proud of him and she would kiss him, in public; he would not like the public display and he would worry about the germs transferred by their spontaneous kiss but he would find a way to be okay with it. Because it meant that Amy would be in the audience. Amy would be proud of him.

He faltered in his speech, not unusual for him but with his eidetic memory and the number of times he practiced in front of the mirror and his family he was not expecting to have any hangups. Her absence should not have thrown him off-kilter but it did. Seven years since they broke up. Six since she married someone else. Five since she left the country and he had never heard from her or about her since then. Now, here in Stockholm he was geographically closer to than he was in years, and yet he was still infinitely far away. He had no name for it other than the Amy Paradox.

He finally understood the reason why gloating over his Nobel Prize failed to bring him the satisfaction he always thought it would. He now knew why he did not feel the pride in his accomplishment that he should. Without Amy looking at him with her prideful devotion, the award was meaningless. It meant almost nothing without her to admire him. Her to praise him. She meant the world to him. He denied it for years, refusing even to think about her. She rejected him.

And yet here he was years later. He never had romantic feelings about a single woman before Amy, and he had no such feelings for anyone after her. She was the only woman he'd ever kissed—except for when a drunk Beverly Hofstadter kissed him but that kiss did not count—and the only woman he would ever want to kiss. She was the only sick person he had ever taken care of. In fact, she was the only sick person he had not run away from. She was the only woman whose advances he did not spurn if he even noticed them at all. Amy was his beginning and end. Without her, he could have all the accolades and awards his brilliant mind deserved and he could take joy in none of them. Not without Amy to take pride with him.

His ennui wasn't about the prize at all. It was about her. His Amy was missing. But she wasn't his Amy. She married someone else. She belonged with another man, as much as one person could belong to another in a world where slavery was illegal. He did not even know her married name. He never thought to ask. He knew she was in London but he would have no idea how to find her. He also knew he could never try. She wanted marriage and children and she had that now. She did not need him. She moved on.

Did she ever even think about him?

He'd tried, and he thought he succeeded, but seven years later and he still was not over her. Her absence spurred him to be a more productive physicist. If not for her leaving he would never have made his breakthroughs. He would not be on this stage today. She made him a better person. The loss of her presence from his life drove him until he made the breakthrough that earned him the Nobel Prize. Without her, he would still be a brilliant but widely unacknowledged theoretical physicist at Caltech who spent more of his time on comic books and video games than he did on research. She did more for him than he could ever thank her for, and he never thanked anyone for his accomplishments no matter how much they may have helped. And what had he done in return? He'd thrown her affection for him in her face and expected her to capitulate to him like she almost always did. He wanted a relationship that was always staggered in his favor until it wasn't and there was no relationship at all.

Amy Farrah Fowler was the reason he was on the stage and the reason he could not enjoy it. She was not there; he couldn't tell her that she'd succeeded in giving him what he wanted most without even trying.

In a daze he said a final few words, not his rehearsed speech. He could see the confusion on his family's faces and he knew they would ask about it later but for now he just had to finish and get off the stage. This was his last day in Stockholm and they next day he would be on the plane back to Pasadena. His life would return to its new homeostasis: schedules and work and a decided void in his life that no one but Amy Farrah Fowler could ever fill.

He finished his speech and made his way back to his family. They appeared concerned but did not say anything as they watched the final few speakers of the evening. It was late and he was tired. He wanted to go to his hotel room and be by himself. He wanted to lock himself away from the world and not emerge until he had Amy back.

Except she wasn't coming back to him. Not now. Not ever. She left him.

"Shelly," he heard his mother knocking at the door. He really did not want to answer her and yet a strange part of him wanted the physical comfort he knew she would provide whether his brain wanted it or not.

He trudged over to the door and opened it, and from his mother's shocked expression he knew she knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Shelly?" Mary Cooper asked. She saw the way his hair was in disarray and he was only half dressed, his clothes rumpled but still making no move to get into his pjs.

"She's not here," Sheldon whispered. He could not bring himself to say her name aloud. Would he ever be done with her and the way she'd woven herself into every aspect of his life even now? A part of him resented her because he could not enjoy the praise he deserved and it was all her fault.

"Who's not here?" Mary knew the best way to deal with her son and Sheldon was grateful she was there. He was also happy she came by herself. He did not think he could handle having the rest of his family around right now. Except for Meemaw. He wanted Meemaw too.

"Amy," he said. He had not uttered her name aloud in years. Not since he ran across her on the landing and she told him she was moving to London. In fact, he had told his mother nothing about what happened between him and Amy other than they'd broken up and he wanted to send the ring back.

He held onto it as his mother requested until he heard Amy married. Then he had no choice but to give it back. That ring was always destined to be on Amy's finger, or no one's if he was never ready for marriage. Without a chance of winning her back, he could not keep it anymore. It would not be right. It belonged in storage in it's box if he could not give it to her.

Mary pushed her way into the room and let the door swing shut. She guided him over to the bed and had him sit down. She sat down next to him and did not hug him as she knew he did not particularly enjoy touch. "What about Amy?" she asked.

Sheldon wished he knew what to say, only it was too much. Too overwhelming. He couldn't do this.

"She should be here. She should be here with me instead and she should be happy with me but she isn't."

Mary rubbed her hand soothingly over Sheldon's back.

Why did Amy leave him? She'd broken him and he resented her for it even as he still loved her. It was confusing.

Though normally good at reassuring him, this was the first time in her life Mary ever failed to bring Sheldon back to his normal self. It was the first time she saw him cry since he was six years old and began the practice of Vulcan kolinahr. There was nothing she could do for him. Heartbreak had to resolve on its own. She could comfort him but the rest was up to Sheldon.

Sheldon did not know whether he was more relieved or upset when his mother left for the night, only that once he was alone he huddled under the covers curled up in the fetal position as he waited for sleep to come. It came, but it was of the fitful variety and in the morning he was ill-rested.

He had the presence of mind to call and make a last minute change to his flight. He would be flying back to Texas instead of Pasadena. He was sure his mother would be alright with him staying for a few weeks, and he had enough vacation time built up he could easily take more time off work. Besides, he already had his life's goal. He did not need to work as hard anymore. He still would, but it was no longer a necessity in order to follow his perfectly-ordered-until-her life plan.

But first he would be making a stop by himself. A full day layover in London. It was rather late to be start researching hotels in the area but he eventually found one last minute that he deemed acceptable that still had an empty room. It was a bit on the pricey side being in the heart of Mayfair. With his prize money, he no longer needed to worry about that sort of thing even if he hadn't had a substantial savings.

He did not know how he would find her, but he would try. He was Sheldon Cooper, brilliant theoretical physicist. He would track her down. He had to find her. Talk to her.

He was already regretting his decision to take a cab into the city. It was full of germs and he began estimating the chances of him contracting a deadly illness but it was better than taking the underground. He arrived at the hotel and checked in. Everything went smoothly. He deposited his bag in his room and then he wondered where he should go. London was a large city. The chances of him running into her were almost nonexistent. He really should have thought his plan through.

He had no idea where to start and he only had a day to find her. He could not look up her name on the various faculty information websites because he did not know her last name or the university she worked at. He did not even know if she worked at a university or for a private company. Hell, he didn't even know that she was still in London or if she had moved somewhere else. Why had he never asked in all these years? His friends would know but with the time difference they would be asleep during his daytime. Finding her would be a Herculean feat without knowing anything except her first name but he was up to the task. He pulled up a list of universities in London and cross-referenced them with ones that had neuroscience departments. He ranked the universities by prestige. He might not like Amy's icky field of study but she was one of the best and wouldn't have accepted any but the best as her workplace as she furthered her career.

By the fifth university he investigated that day, his time was drawing to a close as business hours, even the later hours generally kept in the scientific community, were officially over. People were home for the evening.

"Dr Sheldon Cooper?" He heard a voice behind him and turned around.

He disliked the disruption but a full day was over and he still had not found Amy. He was finally forced to accept the fact that he wouldn't find her that day. He was returning to Texas early the next morning. He failed in what was perhaps the most important endeavor he ever attempted. He was not good with irony but even he could see the irony of his unfailing devotion to his Nobel Prize whilst he neglected the woman who made it possible.

"Yes?" he asked. He did not recognize the tall, slender man. He spoke with an English accent but that was to be expected. He was in London after all.

"I can't believe you're here. Dave Gibbs. Huge fan of your work." The man held his hand out for a handshake and in a daze Sheldon accepted. He had grown almost desensitized after his time in Stockholm. Almost. He still rubbed Purell onto his hands after the contact was over.

Sheldon barely listened as the man, Dave Gibbs, extolled the virtues of his various publications, and especially his unified theory of the cosmos. The man sang his praise and congratulated him six times for his Nobel Prize. He should enjoy the commendation. He barely even noticed. She was not there and this man was keeping him from his search. It should be Amy, not this stranger, praising his work.

Before Sheldon knew what happened the man was crying. He did not deal with emotions. He was about to leave the strange man when he suddenly wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Sorry, Dr Cooper. I really am excited to meet you. I suppose I'm just upset. My mother passed away recently."

"I'm sorry." He could not care less about the stranger's dead mother but it was the socially appropriate thing to say.

"Look. Here she is." Dave pulled up a picture on his phone and showed it to Sheldon. He gasped. In the center was an elderly lady, the man himself, two children—a boy and a girl who looked about the same age—but it was not any of those people who made him gasp.

It was the woman. It couldn't be. She looked different. Her glasses were different and she appeared to have lost some weight, but by no more than a total of ten pounds from when he last saw her. She was quite slender with a fuller chest and waist. Her hair was still its dark chocolate color and settled messily around her shoulders. It was her. Amy.

And that man. Dave Gibbs. He must be her husband.

She was smiling. She looked happy but not blissful, he thought.

Never did Sheldon have the urge to punch someone as strongly as he did then, but when faced with Amy's husband oh how he wanted to. This man had taken away from him the woman that he loved. He stole his Amy from him.

He curled his hands into fists but keep them firmly stationed at his sides. "I have to go," Sheldon said curtly. He turned without waiting for any form of acknowledgement. He could not stay a single second longer in the presence of Amy's husband. It did not occur to him that he could ask the man himself to convey a message, only that he had to get away from here.

What had he been thinking searching for Amy? Even if he had found her, what could he have possibly said? She was married. She had two children. She looked happy in the picture. That's what he wanted for her, after all. He wanted her to be happy. He resented her and he hated that she left him for another man and despite it all he still wanted her to be happy.

Her mother-in-law just died and there he was looking for her to say what? 'If you stayed with me you'd be dating a Nobel Laureate now?' There was little he could do upon meeting her but strip away her happiness and throw it back in her face. She made her mistake when she left him and she recovered from it better than he had. He could hardly confront her now. She moved on and he should too. After all, what would she care that he, the man she used to date, had finally achieved his life's goal? He wouldn't bow to the humiliation letting her know he was miserable while she was happy.

And what would he say to her. 'Now I have my Nobel Prize I'm willing to have children because they can no longer interrupt my life and I can finally make time for something that I never wanted?' She had children now. She did not need him for that anymore.

He gave her too little too late and now he was paying for it. Oh how he was paying for his indecision and the way he'd hurt her then. That could have been him and his mother and Meemaw in the picture with Amy and their children but instead it was Dave, a man who clearly must know nothing about his past with Amy or he never would have praised Sheldon with such enthusiasm, and Dave's children.

Everything was wrong. Just wrong. He had to get back to his hotel room. He had to leave the next day and forget how close he came to finding Amy Farrah Fowler-Gibbs. Or was it simply Amy Farrah Gibbs. Both names sounded wrong even in the privacy of his mind.

He needed his mother.

He went back to Texas. His childhood room was a reminder of who he was. The color and the cleanliness and the comic books. Everything he ever owned was in this bedroom or his storage unit. How he hated his inability to part with anything.

"You alright, Shelly?" his mother asked him. She stood in his doorway and she looked worried. She should be. He felt like he was about to go crazy. Theoretical physicists were infamous for going crazy at some point in their lives. It was finally happening to him. He managed to hold it together long enough to get his Nobel Prize and now he had nothing left to aim for he was simply going to fall apart. One woman in absentia. That's all it took to destroy humanity's most brilliant mind.

"I'm taking a month off from work," he said because it was all he could do. He wanted to talk about Amy and his day in London but he did not know how to start. "I called President Siebert this morning. He seemed happy for me to take a vacation and told me I was long overdue. Funny. I haven't taken a vacation in six years. He even implied I could take how ever long I wanted. Everyone wants me now."

That was what he wanted his entire life. To be praised and recognized for his intellect, and here were the tangible consequences. Caltech was desperate enough to continue employing him now he was a Nobel Laureate that they gave him a carte blanche to take as much leave as he wanted, no questions asked.

Yet there he was in Texas, in the comfort of his childhood home with his mother.

"Something bothering you?" Mary asked. She saw her son torn up their last night in Stockholm, and seeing him now he did not appear much better.

"I don't want to talk about it," he hedged, but it was a lie. He did want to talk about it. After years of keeping his pain over his break up with Amy internalized, he simply did not know how to talk about it anymore. Keeping it inside was habit. He was not a man who could change his habits easily. Every single change in his life was a result of a monumental amount of effort.

"You sure about that?" his mother asked as she led him to the bed and sat him down. He did not like being touched. He barely even noticed her there.

"No," he said truthfully. He could not lie, especially not to his mother.

"This about that girl Amy again?" his mother asked. For a woman of average intelligence who had a strong relationship to her deity, she could be insightful at times.

"She's not that girl, Amy," he finally said when he was certain his mother was simply not going to let it go. "She's . . ." he had not said it aloud to anyone except the woman herself, but as he'd learned in Stockholm, Amy was more important to him than anyone else in the world, ". . . she's the only woman I'll ever love."

He heard how soft and broken his voice was and he wanted to rage about her. He wanted to blame her for the way he felt but he could not. He loved her too much to demean her like that. He did not realize just how much he loved her until she left him for good.

"What happened, Shelly? You never told me why you two broke up."

He did not want to answer that question but his automatic response to his mother's demanding tone was to answer her question immediately.

"I wanted the Nobel Prize ever since I was five," Sheldon said. Mary frowned.

"What does the Nobel Prize have to do with Amy?" Mary asked. Her son was brilliant and she thanked God for having him but there were some days she swore she never would understand her smartest child. Luckily for her the other two were dumb as a box of rocks.

"She . . . she told me she wanted to get married and have children . . .and I said I couldn't because then she'd distract me too much and I'd never get my Nobel Prize."

Mary did not seem too surprised by his revelation. Her son was always just a bit different from everyone else. Before Amy there were times Mary despaired Sheldon would never have a girlfriend, let alone a wife and children.

"You have a Nobel Prize now. What's holding you back?"

Sheldon turned his head away from her and he looked sad. "She's married."

"Oh, Shelly," Mary said and hugged her son. She could not imagine how difficult it must be for him. In the time he should be rejoicing in his triumph he was instead broken hearted. She wished she could take his pain away but instead she would do the best she could to help him through it instead. Sheldon never was the best at dealing with his emotions, but she knew her son well and would do as much as she could for him.

"I'm sorry," she said and soothingly rubbed his back.

Mary thought Sheldon was about to cry. She could not have been more wrong. "How could she do this to me?" Sheldon said. "She hurt me." There it was. Anger. The anger at a new breakup that Sheldon must have put off for years. She braced herself for the storm. Sheldon rarely accepted the fact that he had emotions but when he did it was like an unstoppable force that one simply had to ride out because there was no stopping it.

"She made me fall in love her with her stupid coconut dandruff shampoo and her dates and her hand holding and her kisses. And then she left me to marry some inferior British guy and have his children. How could she do this to me?"

He stood up and began pacing in his room. He felt the sudden urge to pick up the lamp on his bedside table and throw it at the wall in anger.

"Sheldon," Mary tried to sooth him but it did not work.

"I was supposed to be happy now. I was supposed to get my Nobel Prize and praise and instead none of that seems to matter to me because she abandoned me!"

"Honey, she did not abandon you. You two broke up and she moved on."

Reasoning with her son usually had positive results. Sheldon loved logic and rarely argued once he'd been bested. That was not the case, and his emotions more than anything worried her. She'd never seen Sheldon that upset before.

"Are you siding with her?" Sheldon asked suspiciously.

"Of course not," Mary hastily assured him.

"She was not supposed to move on. She was supposed to come back because our relationship was always based on mutual affection staggered in my favor."

"Sheldon!" Mary scolded, "I know she hurt ya but that's not how relationships work. You can't have a relationship that's in your favor."

"You and dad did."

Mary did not know whether to be more shocked Sheldon brought up his father, a sensitive topic he rarely liked to discuss, or that he'd just insulted her.

"Don't you go about disrespectin' me, Sheldon Cooper," she warned. She felt sorry he hurt but she did not put up with nonsense.

"No, ma'am," Sheldon agreed, looking properly contrite.

"Come sit down," she urged. He fought his urge to walk to her and sit down but eventually he did. "Now, why don't you tell me more about Amy."

His month of leave passed as his mother gradually got more and more information out of him. About his relationship with Amy. About their breakup. She even got him to confess his more deeply held feelings. At times her questions spurred him to be angry at Amy, other times he felt sad or depressed, and she talked him through each and every one of his emotions. By the end of the month, he knew he needed more time in Texas. President Siebert was happy to let him work from home, or in his case, from Houston. He was not sure how long it would take, but his mother was helping him through everything he'd felt and ignored since Amy left him. He even told her about his attempt to seduce Amy to give her the children she needed so she would take him back. Rather than rebuff him for attempting to sin—her word not his—before marriage, she felt sympathetic at the way he was rebuffed, even if she did also explain to him why that was not the best course of action to take with his distressed ex-girlfriend.

He'd only recently realized just how much she meant to him and just how much he was still hurting over her. All his childhood bullies combined could not make him hurt the same way Amy did without even trying. If he left Texas now and went back to Pasadena, he knew he'd forget all the progress he'd made in the last few months learning how to talk about his feelings, even if only to his mother. He would go back to work and his job and he would loose himself in his work. He'd give himself over to physics once more and repress all feelings. He'd turn back into the man that Amy left because he could never give her enough. He'd left her emotionally wanting, he knew that now. He did not want to change. The thought of changing himself terrified him, but he had to. He could not stand to remain the same man who lost his chance with Amy Farrah Fowler.

She was married now and all his changes would be for naught when it came to her. He would never again call her his girlfriend. However, if he could become a man worthy of her, perhaps he could figure out how to live with himself and his peculiarities. He did not want to change but he wanted to go back to the man he was in Pasadena even less.

More to the point, he did not think he could stand to go back to Pasadena now he finally felt the full brunt of the hurt he should have years ago, all the more strongly for having concealed it. He did not want to see Howard and Bernadette with their children, only a little older than Amy's. He did not want to see Raj dejected and alone. He could not stand to see Leonard and Penny married and, for a change, not arguing, when, for the first time in his life, he realized that he wanted to be married too. To Amy.

In a moment of weakness, he even thought he'd give up his Nobel Prize to be able to call Amy his girlfriend. His wife. To be able to replace the children from the picture with children that looked like him. Such a thought was ridiculous and impossible and he quickly tried to purge it but it remained all the same. He didn't even want children. Not really. They were too chaotic and unpredictable.

He needed to change and he could only do it in Texas. Yet still he resisted. He needed and wanted it yet he could not allow himself to even begin. It was frustrating. Sick of himself, he eventually asked Leonard and Penny to send him a specific box buried at the back of his closet. It contained a few items: some of his favorite comic books and movies and other not very valuable items that, given his extended time in Texas, he wanted more and more. They sent it to him and two weeks later he opened the box.

Everything that was in there he expected until he got to the bottom and there was a black velvet bag he recognized. He inhaled sharply at the sight of it because he already knew what was inside it. He pulled out the tiara with trembling fingers. It was _her_ tiara. His eidetic memory meant that he knew exactly where it was, but it simply had not occurred to him that the tiara would be there instead of in his safe with his other valuables even though he knew it was in the box of less valuable trinkets.

He ran his fingers over the glistening tiara. He bought that for Amy when she was mad at him. He did it because Leonard told him buying her a gift was one way to get her forgiveness without having to apologize. He wanted to get her a humidifier, and when Penny dragged him into the jewelry store, he was entirely distracted by the pocket watches. He had not thought of Amy then but himself. He did not want to buy her a necklace or a bracelet, but when he saw the sole tiara he knew she would love it. That was the gift he gave her, and she loved it more than he expected.

Though perfectly chosen, the memory of her profuse thanks for his gift and her immediate forgiveness hurt him more than he would have anticipated. That was how he acted. Rather than apologize for hurting her he bought her a trinket—a very expensive, shiny trinket that she adored but a trinket nonetheless. Her feelings were less important to him than his pride.

Through his selfishness he lost her. The tiara was another reminder of what he lost and that he was to blame. It was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. Through chance he finally had the right incentive to motivate him to actually begin the arduous process of changing the way he interacted with others. He might still be afraid but he was going to become a better man. The man he should have been all along but wasn't.

It took numerous uncomfortable conversations with his mother before he began to see more and more of what went wrong. He could still clearly remember the moment when he finally understood. He thought he resented Amy for breaking up with him and hurting him. She left because he hurt her more. He might have accommodated her more than he would any other person in the world, and he had changed for her, but he resisted and later resented each and every change. He thought of himself first, not her, the woman he claimed to and did love. He was not good at showing it to her but he had tried.

The problem, at the end, was him all along. It took him nearly three months to admit that in his head, and another month to say it aloud, but he behaved badly when it came to Amy. He took her needs and threw them in her face, and then expected her to capitulate to him as she always did because she loved him more than he did her.

That was his first problem. He should not have asked her to sacrifice the one thing she wanted most out of life for him. He hurt her when he did. It was the action of a selfish man and he was inherently selfish. Even in giving in to her demands he was selfish, knowing that though he promised her her dreams he would balk later at fulfilling them, an empty promise to string her along to gratify his own feelings. He could not change the fact that he was selfish but he could learn to work past it, to spend more effort considering what the other people around him needed. With some effort he could become more accommodating.

He would become a man worthy of her even though he would never call her his again. It took a lot of time and effort, but after five months in Texas he felt like he was finally at peace, or as much at peace as he would ever be. He'd acknowledged his faults and the mistakes he made with Amy and now he knew what they were he could begin working on fixing them. He would resume his life in Pasadena and treat his friends with the respect he should have all along. He could keep his personality quirks—he refused to change everything about himself—but he could be less selfish. He would get over his repulsion to physical contact. It was not the contact itself that bothered him but the germs. He could get better at that.

He was not better yet—that amount of change after a lifetime of habit would take a lot longer than five months to change—but he was well enough to pick up where he left off in Pasadena without reverting back to his normal behavior. That's what he hoped at least.

It was also time to start responding to all the emails, phone calls, and mail he received from various institutions and companies alike, all asking him to come and speak to them. He was a Nobel Laureate now and with that came a lifetime full of social engagements, presentations, and speeches. It was time to accept the professional responsibilities he ignored for the past five months.

He suspected he would never like going to schools and universities and speaking to students but he understood that educational institutions liked bringing in Nobel Laureates to encourage and interest their students to pursue science; he would not like speaking before lesser academics about his theories but that too came with the territory of doing groundbreaking physics research; he knew he would have to spend less time doing physics and more time being paraded about and shown off like some prized cattle; he hoped that at least the grant money would come a bit easier now though he knew it would not; he really did not want to do television interviews and dumb down his research enough for an average person to understand but that was once again a new social responsibility he could not ignore; he did not want to write an autobiography or more colloquial simplifications to be published for general consumption. His life was going to be different but he had new responsibilities and if there was one thing Sheldon took seriously it was social conventions, little though he understood them.

He was set to return to work when the news came. His Meemaw was diagnosed with melanoma. The cancer was not discovered until it already spread to her lungs and was too late to treat. Even with recent advancements in medical technology the most the doctors could do for her was make her comfortable and relieve her pain; he knew that for a fact because he double checked everything they said. They were correct. Nothing more could be done for her other than to wait. There were some clinical trials she could try but she refused to be treated like a lab rat, even if it might end up saving her life. She refused to be an experiment.

The cancer progressed rapidly and spread too far. He did not want to acknowledge the fact that his Meemaw was dying but he had to. She was old and said it was her God-given time to die. Funny how the least religious of his female relatives embraced God the strongest once she was near the end of her life.

Sheldon once again called President Siebert a requested to extend his time working from home. He thought there would be more protest on President Siebert's part, but the Board of Directors ultimately wanted to keep Sheldon. His time away would be extended for another six months while he sorted himself out.

The pre-Stockholm Sheldon wold not have been able to deal with a dying Meemaw, and post-Stockholm Sheldon did not fare much better. However, his newly developed ability to think through his emotions instead of repressing them allowed him to deal better with her loss.

She died. He cried at her funeral. Even with time to prepare it still hit him harder than he thought it would. He was glad he was in Texas. His mother was just as upset, but being home helped make it just a bit easier. Missy and George Jr came to stay with them for awhile, and for a short time it was like he was a child again with his family, only this time he was no longer teased or bullied. They were grown up and accepted him for being 'odd', their word not his. They would never understand him nor he them, but they could interact favorably. He did not manage to tell them aloud that their presence made Meemaw's death just a bit easier for him to live through. He was not to that point yet. However, he felt the benefit of their presence all the same.

After a total of thirteen months away, he finally returned to Pasadena. He was not happy with his life but at least he was content. However, his progress on correcting decades worth of failings was still well underway.

His first breakdown happened on his second day back in Pasadena when he went into Leonard's room and found it completely empty of all personal touch. Then he discovered that all of Leonard's belongings, save the ones jointly owned by the two of them, were gone from the apartment.

He went and knocked on Penny's door to find not his roommate and the person who answered was decidedly not Penny. She was a brunette. She was short and wore glasses, and like him she worked at Caltech. She taught a writing class. A liberal art. He bit back a snide retort about the worthlessness of the liberal arts. That was the type of person he was trying not to be anymore.

He found out from his new neighbor that Penny gave up her lease five months prior. The woman knew nothing about Penny or Leonard, though he knew they were in Pasadena. They picked him up from the airport and even stayed the night with him at his apartment.

He called Leonard to demand information about his roommate's whereabouts.

Penny's long-since dead career as an actress had finally paid off in the time he was gone. _Serial Apeist_ was becoming a cult classic and as the lead actress she attended a couple of conventions. She made enough at autograph tables and photo sessions to pay off enough of her credit card debt that her and Leonard were able to get a mortgage on a house. They had not lived at 4A in the last twelve months but kept paying their half of the rent to ensure he would have a safe haven to come back to when he was ready to return to Pasadena.

A tenured position opened up at Caltech, and with his acceptance of the promotion came a significant pay raise. He no longer needed a roommate as he did in his early days in Pasadena. He could afford the rent on his own. For the first time in his life, Sheldon Cooper would be living by himself. It was not a change he relished and he had a breakdown over it.

It was settled, however, once Leonard and Penny took him over to their new house. He resisted at first, not wanting to see the building that ruined what little bit of routine he had left in Pasadena, but he was appeased when they showed him a tan colored bedroom. He did not know how they managed it but it was the exact same shade of tan as his room. They told him the room at their house was his if he wanted it. It looked exactly like his room in 4A, a tribute to Leonard's understanding of his personality quirks. They even found exact replicas of his furniture and moved some of his comic book collection and trinkets to the bookshelves and arranged them exactly as he would have.

He had a decision to make. He could live by himself or he could move in with Leonard and Penny. However, he was fond of his apartment. It contained (0,0,0,0). He was loathe to give that up. Rather than give it up entirely he moved some more of his possessions and bought new clothes to store there. He could stay as many nights as he wanted. One additional perk of the house was he got his own bathroom there as well. Leonard and Penny refused to sign a roommate agreement with him. It was their house and they would not agree to his 'unreasonable bathroom schedule' in the house they bought together.

He decided he could be okay with the lack of roommate agreement because he would still be spending more time at 4A than at the house. However, their gesture reassured him that even though they were in a house and thinking about starting a family by adopting they still wanted him in their lives. He did not think he could deal with the loss of their friendship after every other change in his life.

Even though he thought he was far enough along, he was surprised to notice how he slowly slipped back into his old habits now he was in Pasadena again. It came a little at a time. He made no progress on becoming more comfortable with physical contact. He felt that now he understood the subtext of conversations better but he still ended up saying things that hurt people without even understanding why. Once he stopped recognizing when he hurt people and had to be told instead, he decided enough was enough. He could not go on as he was or he'd loose himself again.

Reforging Sheldon 2.0 was proving to be even more difficult than he expected, and he knew it would be the hardest thing he would ever have to do, even over his Nobel Prize winning unified theory of the cosmos.

He decided to see a therapist. He spent more and more time at Leonard and Penny's house, more frequently sleeping in that room than at 4A, but he kept his apartment all the same. It was his. The one constant in his life. He needed that security to fall back on as he went through the scary process of changing.

This change was genuine. It was not because someone forced him to change or because he thought he would loose someone he cared about if he did not. This was for him. For the first time in his life he changed because he wanted to, not because he was forced to. After everything that happened he needed to be a better person. Little by little he would get there.

Though he voluntarily decided to start therapy, most days he went in he felt like he was forced. He sat stiffly on the couch as he became more comfortable with his therapist. It was not easy opening up to a stranger, but in some ways it was easier than opening up to a friend. He was given small assignments to do each week, and then asked to reflect on them. He did not see the point until nearly two years after he started therapy. The small assignments were helping him change but he was nowhere near finished yet.

Some change would never happen: although he could drive he refused to in favor of catching a ride with a friend or taking the bus. It was made easier by the fact that more often than not his neighbor was willing to give him a ride to work provided he brought her a cup of coffee in the morning and did not complain about her driving. He found that out the hard way in the first couple of weeks when she kicked him out of her car.

Ten years of seeing a therapist and he was finally in the place he wanted to be at all along. He no longer needed to go in for sessions, though his therapist let him know he could schedule an appointment if at any time he felt he needed one. He was a better man. He still had his quirks: he kept to schedules like they were the law, refused to let anyone sit in his spot, did not drive, played annoying car games, and loved superheroes, comic books, and science fiction. They were quirks he could live with. He could casually touch people once he knew them well enough, though he would never relish the experience he did acknowledge it was an important part of human existence for some.

He still made some progress professionally but a much greater proportion of his time was still spent traveling to give keynote addresses at conferences, presentations and talks to eager young students, and guest lecturing for various physics classes. He did not like his new responsibilities but it was a part of being a Nobel Laureate. If he disliked some aspects of the honor, he only had himself to blame for pursuing it ruthlessly for as many years as he did. It took him years but he was finally in a place he wanted to be at.

With that came other responsibilities. Leonard and Penny adopted a baby. Unable to have their own and after years on a waiting list they were finally offered the opportunity to adopt a child. They would be bringing a baby into the house and Sheldon did not relish the thought. The baby turned into a toddler and then a child in the blink of an eye. Though they gave him a room in the house to assure him he still had a place in their lives, he no longer needed it. Their child started at elementary school. Sheldon was a second child, growing up alongside their first. He was ready, at long last. Sheldon packed everything in his second room up and moved it back to 4A. By the time they got back from their spontaneous trip to London, he would be completely moved out of their house and into his own apartment. It was time to live on his own. He was a grown man with the beginnings of a bald spot to prove it, no longer a child.

As he unpacked all his boxes he unpacked another box as well, one he had not opened since he was in Texas. There it was again. _Her_ tiara. He did not know it but there was one final thing he needed before he could consider his transformation complete—because no, still he was not over his compulsive need for closure and on that score he suspected he would never be. He needed to see Amy and give her a long overdue apology for the pain he caused her. She moved on and likely would no longer care for his apology but he owed it to her and she was the one unresolved part of his life. It was time to settle the air at long last. He was not doing it for Amy but himself, and he hoped he would not selfishly hurt her again in the process.

This time he would not go off to London willy-nilly. He knew her last name and he found her. She taught at UCL and her lab was there. She must have stayed in London, just like she was when he ran into her husband, Dave Gibbs, all those years ago. It was time.

However, he also could not just go and expect to find her. It might take more than a few days. He contacted the physics department at UCL and managed to talk his way into a job. President Siebert was not happy about him taking a year long sabbatical after his last thirteen month long absence ten years previously, but when he said if he was not granted the sabbatical he would give up his tenure in favor of a permanent position at UCL, President Siebert was forced to agree when the Board of Directors became insistent he do anything to keep Sheldon Cooper as a faculty member at their university. He was good for publicity and large donations after all, even years after winning his prize.

He took the position at UCL and after spending much time saying goodbye to his friends, he left for London without a second look back. It was time to wrap up what he started with Amy years ago. He would settle into London life and then he would find her. He would apologize and wish her all the happiness she deserved in life with her husband and children and career. It would kill him inside to do it but it was the last bit of closure he needed to complete his hard fought transformation into a better man. He needed to give her the courtesy of accepting her and her choices and apologize for the pain he unknowingly caused.

He arrived in London and in the first week he learned devastating news: Amy Gibbs no longer worked at UCL. She resigned two months before he arrived, and had been gone but a day before his arrival. He'd missed her. It was close and now he was obligated to spend the year in London before he could return to Pasadena.

He hated the cold and rainy English weather. A person more suited to the outdoors might have enjoyed the charming English countryside but not him. He was content to watch it pass by him on a train. He took trains on his time off for the sake of it. There were always trains and he could get anywhere on them. He might dislike London but he did enjoy the easier and more frequent transportation, especially because he still did not drive. Sheldon Cooper could only change so much after all.

* * *

 **AN:** To the guest reviewers

SusanaAlcira: Thanks! To answer your questions: no, no, not exactly, and 70 (out of 421) pages left to go.

Light96: Thanks! I'm currently working on two Shamy stories, tentatively titled The Fiancé Fallacy and The Eros and Psyche Elucidation, but as with this one I won't start posting until I have a complete rough draft. That way I can guarantee the story will be completed and posted in a timely manner so as not to leave everyone hanging for long, or even worse, with an abandoned story.

Ehhh: I hope you're not to mad at me after this chapter.

Bonnie C: Thank you so much.


	67. Chapter 67

"What brought you back?" Penny asked.

"I was lonely and realized I had nothing left to stay for. With Dave gone and the twins off to university, there was no longer a point. It was time to come home."

Being around Penny and Bernadette was like coming home, that warm and comforting feeling. She did have to make some adjustments as she came back, not realizing how much she adapted after living so far away for so long. The traffic patterns were different, and though it was nice being surrounded by American accents again and not to have to work to understand people who spoke the same language as her, she missed the slower, rhythmic lilt of conversation as it gave way to fast paced rambling.

"And you're here to stay?" Penny asked.

"I'm here to stay," Amy confirmed and that was that. She was officially back.

They resumed girl's night. Halley was old enough to babysit her younger brother and with Howard more actively involved in housework, as Bernadette's equal partner and not her additional dependent, they were able to meet up for girls night at least once a week. Now older, they no longer frequented bars and drank them selves into a hangover the next day. Amy and Bernadette no longer did at any rate. Penny was still fond of the bottle but even her tastes changed as she grew older. Rarely did Penny go for the hard liquor anymore, preferring the less potent wines instead. Raj joined them more often than not, but after years with only one friend, Amy was glad for the mess of people around her, especially as she felt the need to make up for the entirely empty house she lived in by herself.

At least every other week Amy called Ann over Whatsapp and the two women spoke. Not once did Amy mention Sheldon, though she wondered if Ann had met him yet or not. She also wondered what her friend would think of him, which led her to wonder what she would think of the changed Sheldon, if her friends were to be believed and he really was different. They had no reason to lie to her so she would accept their claims unless they were proven otherwise.

Jenna had graduated from MIT with a major in chemical engineering. Immediately after she took an internship for a tech company in Burbank. The internship turned into a job offer.

 _I heard you moved back. I'd love to meet up with you for lunch_. Jenna texted her.

 _Thursday?_ Amy texted back.

The last time she saw Jenna was when she went to the camp at Oxford, but that was back when she was still in high school. The girl was now a woman, not a teenager any longer. Jenna, as it turned out, had a boyfriend, and she brought him along to meet Amy. The city hadn't paused for her when she moved on, and it was striking to come back and see all the changes, even if they were for the better. Jenna seemed very enthusiastic with her job.

Cecile brought Mark and Max out to visit her and she marveled at how tall and older the boys appeared from the last time she saw them. Max remembered her this time, though only barely. A fixture in his early childhood, Mark was glad to have Amy back for good.

Mark, the little child she remembered, was all grown up, was about to start graduate school studying. Amy sensed Cecile was frustrated by Mark's continued education, wanting him to move on and get a job already. She saw graduate school as indecision. Mark himself admitted that he loved architecture but wasn't sure what he wanted to do yet, so he went to graduate school to give himself more time to figure out his next move while still doing something he loved. What Mark choose to do after graduate school, Amy would be interested to hear. Max, a year older than her own children, had just graduated from high school and was starting his first semester of college, same as Cassie and Felix.

Amy took the boys out for dinner a couple of nights and it was an interesting study in the way brothers behaved around each other. Their relationship was much different from the close bond shared between Cassie and Felix. If she had to categorize the relationship, it would be highly antagonistic. On multiple occasions, they nearly descended into physical altercations and were only stopped by Cecile's poignant disapproval and threats.  
"I'm sorry to hear about Dave," Cecile told her.

"It's been rough," Amy said, "but I think I'll be better. Someday." She did not know when or where she would no longer feel the longing for her late husband and the loneliness his absence brought. Being back in California made the burden of loneliness easier to bear but her friends were no substitute for the companionship Dave provided.

With Cecile and her children as shields, Amy visited her parents. A visit was a decade overdue, though she went very reluctantly kicking and screaming. The last thing she wanted to deal with in her state of mind was her mother.

"We're glad you're back" Amy's father said when he invited the four in. Mark and Max brought a basketball with them and went to play one-on-one at the nearby park, leaving Cecile as Amy's only buffer.

"Thank you," Amy said. She felt stiff sitting on the couch and lonely without her husband there. Without even realizing it, he diffused the tensions between her and her parents, or he at least provided her with the resolve she needed to defend herself against their verbal sparring. "I'm glad to be back." She was not glad for the circumstances that brought her back, but nevertheless it was nice.

Her mother did not think to ask how she was doing even though her husband died less than a year previously. Amy rather thought the encounter was going well until Mrs Fowler asked, "Are you seeing anyone, Amy?"

"No," Amy gasped. A year since her husband died and she did not feel anywhere near ready to begin dating again, if at all. "I'm still grieving," she defended herself.

"But you're getting older. If you don't want to die alone you need to find someone. It may already be too late for you. Just look at you. And with children."

"Don't you dare say another word," Amy said. "I will begin dating again if and when I am ready and not before then."

"But your mother does bring up an excellent point," Mr Fowler agreed, and Amy sent him a look that said _et tu Brute_? "You can't want to be alone."

"No," Amy said, "I don't want to be alone and I'm not alone. I will move on if I am ever ready. Until then, it is not your concern."

"Amy's right," Cecile agreed. "When Jack and I split . . . I wasn't ready to start dating again for awhile." While the circumstances between Jack and Cecile were vastly different, the woman could understand Amy's point of view in a way her parent's could not.

"And how has that worked out for you?" Mrs Fowler asked, "I don't recall you dating anyone recently."

Cecile and Amy both gasped at the same time, Amy in shock that her mother would say something with the vitriol she normally reserved only for her daughter and Cecile indignant at the judgement.

"Once again, that's not your concern," Amy said.

Apparently it would kill her mother to be nice for three seconds, but she would not be Mrs Fowler if she was any other way.

"Fine. What does the only woman here who's been married for more than twenty years know about relationships?"

Amy gasped at the insensitivity. "You want to be like that?" she questioned. Mr Fowler opened his mouth to try to diffuse the situation but he was cut off and not a moment too soon as far as Amy was concerned. "Fine. I don't have to put up with this. And just so you know, my marriage is only over because my husband is dead, something you should be grateful enough to not understand." Amy glanced at Mr Fowler who looked stunned. "Sorry dad," she apologized, "But I really must be going."

Cecile left with her, not wanting to be subjected to the Fowlers any longer. They picked up the confused boys from the park on their way back to Glendale.

"What was up with them?" Cecile asked as she drove.

"They're always like that. It's nothing new," she said. Amy long ago came to terms with her parents failings, and while she strove to be different from them, she could not cut them off entirely. They were still her parents no matter that they could not get along for as little as five seconds.

"I've never seen that side of them before," Cecile commented.

"You're not their daughter," Amy said.

"I'm sorry on their behalf, Amy. They shouldn't have said some of those things to you. I can't imagine how much you're hurting." What Cecile left unsaid was that she, at least, wanted to separate from Jack. Amy was given no choice in the dissolution of her own marriage. The situations were very different and yet similar enough Cecile could empathize.

"Thanks, but I'm used to it by now," Amy said. "I'm sorry for what they said to you. I shouldn't have brought you along as a shield."

"Now I know why you asked me to come along," Cecile said. "Oh, Ames, I wish I'd known about this earlier. There may have been something I could have done."

"Maybe," Amy agreed noncommittally, though she doubted there was a single thing Cecile could have done. Her relationship with her parents was ruined long before Cecile joined their family.

Cecile and her children left and Amy was alone again, a step in the wrong direction.

Word must have spread through the family that she was lonely. Amy received a text from Jenna inviting her over for dinner. It was strange, she thought, that the child she remembered, the one she toured around her lab and introduced to science all those years ago, was grown up with an apartment of her own.

Amy went to her place for dinner; Jenna lived with her boyfriend. Amy was glad that much as her younger self did, her children had very little interest in dating. Jenna opened a bottle of wine and served it to the small party as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It was, Amy realized. She hadn't been a child for a very long time. Amy left with parting hugs to return to her empty house.

She was supposed to be surrounded by people but instead she was alone. It was well and good and gave her time to think. Too much time to think.

* * *

AN:

Ehhh: You're absolutely right; Sheldon isn't the only one to blame. And as for wanting children, I totally agree with you. There is nothing wrong with not wanting children. The idea for this story came to me a little less than a year ago. I'd just moved from London, land where 'Tinder' is used more frequently in everyday conversation than 'emoji', to Salt Lake City, where within the first couple of months I was called a spinster by people I barely knew (and I had just turned 21) like I was somehow back in 1880 England. Then I was on the light rail to go to comic con and a complete stranger told me that a 'pretty little thing' like myself should find a boyfriend and get married so I could have children before I turn thirty and am incapable of it—which aside from being medically inaccurate was just creepy since the guy was over seventy—because having children is my 'duty' (the actual word he used) as a woman and the only way I can be happy (I hate babies; I think they're almost as disgusting as the half eaten baby mice in lab). So rather than get upset by the sexist pig, I rocked my Seven of Nine cosplay (and ignored the inevitable comments of 'your boyfriend is lucky' that I get at any convention I wear it to), and shortly thereafter this story was born. They've talked about having children before. Now Amy really wants children; Sheldon really doesn't. There is nothing wrong with what either character wants. What happens next? And hey, I did promise long and angsty.

Guest1: Nice spotting.

SusanaAlcira: Since counting chapters is tedious, I'll do some basic maths instead. The 67 chapters so far total 357 pages, so 5.328 pages per chapter, with 421 pages total, thus the remaining 64 pages left to post divided by the number of pages per chapter is approximately 12.012 chapters left. However, with the last chapter being an outlier in it's length and assuming a right skewed distribution for page count per chapter, I'll estimate 13 chapters left with a margin of error of 3 chapters. So to concisely answer your question, somewhere between 10 and 16 chapters remaining.

Sarah: I hate when stories I am really into are abandoned almost as much as when the time between updates turns into weeks and then months and then even a year apart. I don't want to put any of you readers through the trauma of an unfinished or infrequently updated story.

Light96: I'm excited for my next story too, and a little curious about how an urban fantasy will be received in this fandom that, as far as I can see, is mostly set in the real world. All the reviewers recently have had the unintended effect of tripling the amount of time I spend working on the story each day.

Guest2: I couldn't end a TBBT fic without bringing back Sheldon, and that's all I'll say on that.


	68. Chapter 68

Amy had a lot to think about. She went back to her lab to continue working, but spent most of her time processing all the information the boys gave her. Fifteen years worth of information and gossip condensed into one short story. Sheldon went to London, to her workplace even. He had to have gone there for her; there could be no other possible explanation. He went to try and find her in London after winning his Nobel Prize, and she had not even known. He went to see her, for whatever reason. The boys were not able to tell her what. Even if he had found her it would not have been a good time, what with Beth's recent death. Perhaps it was for the best he did not succeed in finding her.

Rather than returning triumphant to Pasadena to lord his accomplishment over everyone at the university, he retired to Texas. Amy knew what that meant. Sheldon only ever went to Texas when he needed his mother's help processing something, and even then it only lasted a handful of days until he was ready to return. An entire year. She did not even want to think about the state his mother found him when he first arrived.

From what the boys told her, Sheldon was different. The man who scoffed at the social sciences and denied emotions went to voluntarily see a therapist. He was comfortable living on his own. He adapted to Penny and Leonard moving forward in their lives without him, without a fuss over the change. Raj even said Sheldon was less averse to physical touch than before. Amy had the hardest time of all believing that tidbit of information to be true, and yet at the same time they had no reason to lie to her.

Most puzzling of all was Sheldon's decision to take a job at UCL. He had no reason to leave Caltech. He loved his schedules and his routines and was averse to changing them. He was most comfortable with familiarity and changes made him anxious. He had a hard time processing large changes, and UCL could not offer him any opportunity that Caltech could not. Always ambitious when it came to his career, a move to another university both so far away and unable to offer him more was puzzling. Amy could only think of one possible rational to explain all the facts: Sheldon went to see her. Yet he had no way of knowing whether she was still in London or not. And even if he had found her, what could he possibly have wanted? He did not know about Dave's death; she did not tell him and she knew her friends never mentioned her to Sheldon anymore so he could not have heard about it through the grapevine. Hell, he did not even know her last name so he could not have read it in the obituaries. She also knew him to be to honorable a man to break up a marriage, even if his jealousy had been the catalyst each time their relationship took a leap forward.

Everything involving Sheldon was buried deeply into the past she did not even know what to think anymore. She loved him. A part of her always would, and it was different type of love than the one she held for her late husband. It was a love that laid dormant, a love she forgot about for years until, in her loneliness and desperation for the type of human companionship that was a void in her life since Dave's passing, she recalled the first time in her life when she was not alone anymore. When she had friends and a boyfriend and as the long-ago memories resurfaced, so did the feelings. Being back in California was doing things to her.

What was she thinking moving to California suddenly? Even if she did find Sheldon to still be there, likely given his disinclination to change, there was no guarantee she would love him anymore. She changed a lot in the last nineteen years since they were a couple. The Amy that stared back at her from the mirror would be a complete stranger to the Amy of nineteen years ago as different as she was. She was not the same personal anymore. Not recognizably so, aside from her cardigans and glasses, everything else about her was different. Even her hair was different, curlier after her pregnancy and now starting to turn grey with age. And for all she changed, Amy was equally certain Sheldon changed. Time changes all, even those that resist change, and Leonard, Howard, and Raj confirmed his change. For the better or worse she would not be able to tell until she saw him again.

With the both of them changed, there was no guarantee they would even be suitable anymore. It was a moot point. Sheldon was not in California anymore, and he would not be back for a year. She did not even know whether she could love the current version of Sheldon or he her.

Her years with Dave taught her many things, especially the comfort of physical affection. She knew one thing for sure: should she ever enter into another relationship she would no longer be content for one lacking physical touch. She craved the comfort affection brought and would be unwilling to deny herself it anymore. That, alone, would be why a relationship with Sheldon could no longer work.

She was crazy for even thinking about him. While he would undoubtedly still remember every single interaction the two of them ever had, even better than she remembered, he would not be alright with her need for physical intimacy. She had no reason to think about Sheldon, but the truth was she was lonely. She missed her husband and his comfort and with her children away from home most of the year, even in Pasadena she was lonely. Less lonely for the close proximity to her closest friends but lonely all the same. Friends were not a replacement for a partner who was always there for her. Her loneliness was driving her melancholy and what ifs. Sheldon was the only man other than Dave she'd viewed in a romantic light, and with Dave gone, it made sense from a neurobiological standpoint that she would instinctually try to resolve her loneliness with someone familiar. Humans were instinctually drawn into groups, after all.

Deciding to quit work early because she made no progress on her experiments in the entire two hours since lunch, she went to Penny and Leonard's house. Neither of them were there, both still at work, and rather than admit defeat, she let herself into the house and texted Penny saying she needed to talk and she was at the Hofstadter's residence.

"Hi Amy," Penny said when she got home from work.

"Hi Penny," she replied.

"What's up?" Penny asked. Amy knew she must look distant. It was how she felt. Distant and unnerved.

"The guys told me about what Sheldon's been through in the last couple of years."

"Oh." Penny sat down on the couch next to her. "Are we going to need wine for this?"

"Get the wine," Amy agreed. The type of conversation she was about to initiate required a large glass of Merlot.

She told Penny everything she thought about the situation. About the impossibility that Sheldon left to find her. Penny even confirmed Sheldon was still ignorant about Dave's death. He could not have gone there to make a fresh start with her, and her desire to do the same must be unique and unreciprocated.

"Then why did he go?" Amy asked.

Penny smiled softly at her. "I can't tell you that, Amy. Sheldon's grown up a lot. If you ever see him again, he will tell you himself."

Amy sighed. "The one time you decide not to gossip . . ."

"Hey," Penny protested but there was no anger or bitterness there.

Amy spent the next four days thinking and rethinking the situation, but no matter which way she looked at it, Sheldon going to London somehow related to her. The two events were correlated but the mechanism underlaying the relationship was still a mystery to her. She could let it go, the easier option and the option she should probably follow, or she could go to Sheldon and resolve the matter once and for all. The problem was she just started her new job and she wanted time to settle down. The last thing she needed was the long haul flight back and then what? There was no guarantee she would even find Sheldon.

Yet a part of her was telling her she needed to try. Much against his will Sheldon's actions became partially determined by her own, no longer inseparable. It was cocky of her to think that was still the case when it came to Sheldon, but there was no other rational explanation for his move. The uncertainty was going to drive her crazy. That was a plain and simple fact. There was only one way to ease her disquiet and answer her question and the vicious, unending cycle of questions and self-doubt. She needed to go to London. She needed to find him.

It was not a rational decision or even a well thought out one. She packed a carryon, took a personal day from work, and went straight to the airport. The last minute ticket was exorbitantly priced but she paid for it and the return trip two days later.

The wait at the airport stretched on forever. It was stupid for her to leave her work, even if she only took a Friday off and planned to be back on Monday. She was a new employee again. She would find Sheldon. She had friends and contacts at UCL who could help her with that. Yet once she found him there would be little for her to say.

 _I miss you._ That did not sound right. There was a time when she missed him but she had not thought about him in years. Missing him was not appropriate. _I think about you now._ She had no reason to. No incentive. If she had anyone else as familiar to her as him she would think about them as well. It was a comfort.

She clutched her hands together the entirety of the flight. She ate the tv dinner and barely noticed. The distraction of a movie was unnecessary. Her thoughts were company enough for the eleven hour red-eye.

* * *

 **AN:**

SusanaAlcira: Nope, that was just a random stranger.


	69. Chapter 69

It was absolutely crazy. She was a calm, rational person. Her entire life she thought through every decision she ever made with agonizing precision. Yet here she was, eleven hours later getting off the plane at LHR only weeks after she last left England.

She sagged in relief at the familiarity of it all. The ease of switching her SIM card back over and knowing which plan to get and how much it cost without having to wade through all the options for carriers and plans. Tapping her oyster card against the barrier and then the growing frustration as the Piccadilly line stopped too frequently. Being able to navigate her way around without having to whip out her GPS.

It was a reversal of sorts. The first time she'd come to England, it had been strange and confusing and frustrating. Life was harder than necessary. She moved back to California and thought it would be just as easy as when she had left, only it wasn't. LA had changed and some days it was a struggle to catch up, the extra forethought required to adapt to a new and different way of life.

She had been a very different person back then.

Middle of the day Friday and it was only a short trip to UCL and Sheldon. She truly lost her mind. When Leonard, Howard, and Raj told her Sheldon took a sabbatical at UCL, she couldn't believe it.

He was a Nobel Laureate. He could be head hunted anywhere he wanted. He could go to the most prestigious theoretical physics department in the world but he choose the place where she worked. Where she was supposed to be. Where, in some alternative universe, she would still work.

The Sheldon she remembered never would have left. He liked his job and his friends and his routine. He liked his apartment and his spot and no temptation could have possibly drawn him away from the familiar. To change all of that to up and move to another country? She knew how much he hated his time in Germany. Living abroad was too difficult for Sheldon to take in when he barely understood his own culture. Oh Sheldon.

She remembered back to all those years ago. He might have resisted at first, but he eventually held her hand and kissed her. He made progress. With Sheldon, it was always tiny steps she forced upon him, but if anything could induce Sheldon into undergoing such a drastic change to his routine willingly, it would be her. At least, once upon a time it would have been her. Now she wasn't sure.

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part, and large dose of loneliness, but wishful thinking brought her here. She knew better than to request a day off only two weeks into a new job. And all for what? To see if Sheldon still loved her. She'd changed since last he knew her, and she suspected he had changed since then as well. What if she loved the memory of him more than the actual man?

What if she was only seeking him out because there were days she missed Dave so much she couldn't stand to be in a room alone?

Her children were at university. Her husband was dead. There were no more ties or obstacles in her path. If Sheldon Cooper would take her back, she could not think of anything that would give her more joy. She also couldn't envision a scenario that would give her more pain.

Any guilt she might have felt at moving on from Dave was gone. Deep down, she knew he would want her to be happy. He would disapprove of her being lonely out of some sentimental loyalty to him. He would not want her to forever be stuck in a rut where she went about her days in a daze, overworking herself to keep the emotions at bay, and then struggling not to cry at the unlikeliest of times when something reminded her of him; like the 'Best Fish 'N Chips' Sign that would have made him laugh and avoid the dish like the plague because he disliked fish.

When had she even left the airport?

If Sheldon was with her, he'd be fascinated by all the trains at the crowded station. As it was, she sat there with her only bag, a small carry on. She was absolutely crazy. Once she got to UCL, how was she even going to go about finding him?

Was he even there? He should be, according to the guys, but there was no guarantee. Nothing in life was ever guaranteed. Except death. That guarantee she would happily forgo.

Oh she could not take the agonizing wait any longer. She boarded her train when it arrived. London. How had it brightened in only two weeks? It was still raining outside and she felt the chill seeping into her as the days grew shorter. She'd never truly grown accustomed to the cold and rainy English climate. And yet despite the gloom outside she felt a thrill of anticipation. For the first time in over a decade, she and Sheldon were in the same city. She only had to find him.

She made her way to the entrance only to realize she was no longer faculty and no longer had access. She texted Ann to come meet her there and let her in. Ann had sent her a question mark in return but also said she was coming.

She stood huddled in the doorway. How had she come to England and forgotten to pack an umbrella? _Rookie mistake_. She mentally reprimanded herself.

She scanned the bustling road for anyone approaching who might look like Ann. Thus it was she did not notice as the door to the building opened and she barely managed to stumble out of its way.

Her heart began to beat furiously in her chest as she heard a familiar reprimanding Texas drawl, "Sorry, ma'am, but you really shouldn't stand in the front of . . . Amy?"

She turned to face him. The whole reason she'd flown all the way back to England.

"Sheldon?" she said. It was like fate brought them together. When she'd stressed about finding him, here he was practically running her over with the door.

"What are you doing here? I was told you resigned." She wondered if Sheldon was aware of just how much he gave away in those short little phrases. He'd asked about her? Could she truly hope he'd moved to London for her?

She should try to play it cool. It had been a long time since last they saw each other. It was her curiosity to know what drew him to England that demanded satisfaction. Despite the evidence, what if the move really was for his career? Did he even want to see her? He had not sent her away yet.

"I did. There was just something here I needed to finish up." _Liar. Your only business here is Sheldon. Curse your curiosity._ She couldn't very well tell him that. He might flee. Sheldon never did well with surprises and she'd be damned if she messed up again.

"I see," Sheldon said. His voice was calm and even. He briefly glanced downwards and she just barely noticed the bald spot forming on his head. Had his eyes always been that bright green and soulful? She didn't remember them that way and yet there was nothing about his look she would change. "I was actually heading out for lunch. Do you know of anywhere we can eat?"

A chance to sit down and talk to him was too good to pass up. As he was new to the area, it only made sense he asked her for a place to eat. She knew the nearby restaurants and pubs well.

She led him to her favorite nearby pub. He'd enjoy the burgers and it was early enough in the day the drunk uni crowd would not yet be there and they could still find a table that was relatively clean and quiet for their private discussion.

They sat themselves down, and Amy was pleasantly surprised when Sheldon asked what she wanted and moved to the counter to order for them both. That was unlike him.

He sat back down and handed her her drink.

Rather than start a rant about his day, Sheldon appeared rather uncomfortable. When it became evident to her he was not going to be responsible for starting a conversation, Amy said, "I should congratulate you on your Nobel Prize. That's quite an accomplishment, Sheldon."

Sheldon looked up at her, a bit surprised at her compliment. He swallowed and said, "Thank you, Amy."

Faultlessly polite he was ever the Southern gentleman. But where was the Sheldon she remembered? The Nobel Prize was his lifelong goal. He'd put all his focus and energy on the single acquisition that would give credence to his superior intellect. His unrelenting pursuit and the way he gloated over his every accomplishment made his soft thanks of the greatest achievement of his life seem strange.

"I read your papers. They're brilliant. You truly deserve the award."

Talking about his papers and admiring his accomplishments was the easiest way to get Sheldon to talk about himself. Who knew how many dates and days in general they'd spent with Sheldon talking about the minutiae of his work while she listened. Even the slightest compliment or question about his work was sure to be met with a lengthy explanation riddled with both theoretical physics and laudatory self-praise.

Sheldon smiled but it was his koala face. The time was long past when she could scold him for using a fake out. She kept quiet.

"Thank you again. But I could not have done it on my own. When I was doing my research I was in my zone for just over eight months. Without Leonard and Penny to take care of me, I never could have done it."

"You always did rely on them," Amy said. She knew for a fact now that Sheldon was out of sorts. She could attribute it to the fact that if she changed over the years, he had as well, but something in her gut told her something bigger was at stake.

It certainly had nothing to do with the lingering scent of talc and the lines on his handsome face. He'd aged well since she'd last seen him.

"I relied on them more than I should have."

That was even more unlike Sheldon. He rarely ever admitted to his weaknesses, and only then after forcefully dragging the information out of him. He simply did not volunteer information about his incompetence.

There were a million things she thought of to say to him, but in the end, her growing concern for his unusual behavior took over.

"Are you alright?"

Sheldon looked at her and his face was so sad she wanted to take him into her arms and never let go. Sheldon would never allow that kind of touch; she held back. She was grateful the tense moment was broken by the waitress delivering their burgers. Sheldon picked at his food, and though he always ate at lunch, he found it nearly impossible to eat with Amy sitting just across from him, close yet far.

"I'm fine. I'm not happy, but I'm content." He drew out the last word and his eyes bore into hers.

"What happened, Sheldon?" Amy asked, truly curious what could have evoked such a change in Sheldon.

Sheldon smiled weakly at her before using his fork to polk at his bun. Still he did not take a bite. "You did. I resented you leaving me, Amy Farrah Fowler." Sheldon's shoulders hunched over in resignation. "Gibbs," he corrected, seemingly embarrassed at his lapse.

To a neurobiologist, the lapse was very telling. Amy's heart rate sped up. He still had feelings for her. She hated the fact that they were resentment.

"You're the reason I got my Nobel Prize, you know. When you left for London, I did not know how to handle your absence so I threw myself into my work. I thought that if I worked hard enough I could forget about you, but it never really worked. I made more progress and discovered things even I didn't think myself capable of. Did you know there was a time Leonard tried to set me up with women?"

That's where he was going with his confession. He had met someone else. Strange the boys did not mention her. As much as the knowledge might hurt as a dagger to her heart, she could not blame him for moving on. She moved on first when she married Dave and immediately after fell pregnant. How could Sheldon do anything other than the same? Did he have a wife? Funny how when she talked with her friends from Pasadena the topic never came up.

"I'm glad you met someone," Amy said, her voice a dull monotone. _Liar_. She wished he'd never met anyone.

Sheldon's startled gaze moved up to hers. "I never did. Whenever Leonard tried to set me up with someone, she wasn't intelligent enough for me. She didn't interest me the way you did from the beginning. Plus I've always hated touching people. You know that. Except for you. You were the exception to my every rule, Amy Farrah . . ."

Amy saw the way Sheldon flinched and couldn't bring himself to say her surname.

"Anyways. I've come to terms with the fact that you were the one and only woman I could ever fall in love with. If I couldn't be with you, then I couldn't settle for anyone less perfect for me. You have no idea how many times I wanted to make amends with you, Amy. When I heard you were engaged, I would have done anything to stop it. I would have married you. I would have given you however many children you asked for. I would have done anything to have you. Even coitus."

They both smiled at his joke at the glacial pace of their former relationship.

"Sheldon, that's—"

"Selfish of me, I know. But I need to tell you this. Please. Allow me. I've carried this burden for years. I know you're married and it isn't my place anymore to tell this to you, but please allow me. I promise that after today you'll never have to see me again."

"I'm not—" Amy tried to tell him to tell him about Dave's death but she was interrupted. Sheldon wanted to say his piece.

"My point is, you are the one regret I have, and if I could go back in time and tell my past self to give you everything you ever wanted, I would. But I can't. I have to move on and accept my stupidity. I would have married you. Given you children. It took me some time to accept that, but I would have done it to keep you by my side. I even would have given up my chance at my Nobel Prize. I . . . I would have been happier with you. The prizes. The money. It turns out it doesn't matter as much to me as you do."

That Amy had not expected. His pursuit of the Nobel Prize was one of the many idiosyncrasies that made him Sheldon Cooper.

"You would have resented me," Amy said, a repetition of an argument from long ago.

Sheldon smiled bitterly, and this time Amy knew it was genuine, not just his koala face.

"I would have," Sheldon agreed. "I didn't see it back then, but I do now. I would have been happy for a time, but then we would have made each other miserable." Counterfactuals always was a game uniquely theirs. No one else was capable of playing. No one else could evaluate all the possibilities of infinite other universes. Amy always was a smart one, and she won the game long before he did.

"And I would have been selfish about it, giving you anything to keep you by my side. It never would have worked. I would have grown to hate you and you me. If I hadn't lost you, I never would have appreciated just how much you meant to me then. How much you still mean to me.

"I didn't even realize that until I was in Stockholm. I saw my mom and Meemaw and brother and sister in the audience, but you weren't there. That's when I realized you were the one person in the whole world I wanted to be there. The room could have been empty but for you and I would have been the happiest man in the world. The truth is, that's when I learned my accomplishments meant nothing without you to share them with. If not for my selfishness and shortcomings as a boyfriend, you would have been there for me."

Amy felt her eyes beginning to tear and tried to force them away. They were in public and she didn't want to be seen crying but she couldn't help it. What Sheldon told her was heartbreaking. She knew he was capable of being romantic, and this is the most tragically romantic thing she'd ever heard. She loved watching _Titanic_ ; she knew what tragically romantic actually meant.

"I would have supported you, Sheldon. You know that. You always came first with me."

Sheldon winced at that. Amy knew what he was thinking. He always came first with her, but she wasn't first with him. He hadn't thought of her when he ran away on the train. He hadn't thought of her when he'd applied to go to Mars. He hadn't thought of her first because he had the familiarity of his best friend to fall back on. He was less fearful of Leonard being ashamed of him than her.

"Yes. Well. That never happened. In this world, I took a year to myself and went back home to Texas and worked from there. Anyways, I don't want to burden you but I spent a year thinking about the man I was and what went wrong between us, and when I finally saw my true reflection in the mirror, I realized I did not like who I was. You were always leaps and bounds ahead of me. I was too narcissistic and egotistical to see it. You wanted more and I wanted things to stay as they were. I put myself before you every single time, and I hurt you badly. I never meant to and I'm sorry."

"Sheldon—"

"Let me finish. Then you can talk. I promise," Sheldon interrupted her, determined to say his part. "Then Meemaw died."

Amy reached her hands across the table and placed them overtop of Sheldon's. Personal boundaries be damned she was crying heavily now and she needed to feel his skin on hers, chaste as the touch might be.

"I'm so sorry, Sheldon." To her surprise, he didn't startle or scold or attempt to pull away from soft touch.

"Anyways, I started seeing a therapist over ten years ago. It took a really long time but I was finally able to see where we went wrong. I started working on who I was. The man I was pushed you away, and I needed to change. Not for you but for myself. I needed to become a man who was worthy of you even though I've lost you forever. But this isn't about me. It's about you. My therapist helped me work through my emotions. I'd ignored them for so long that when they finally surfaced I didn't know what to do. That was when I realized we were finally over, and I couldn't handle it. If you think 25 cats was bad, you can imagine what loosing the only woman I'll ever love did to me.

"I started working on being less callous. My therapist helped me through my intimacy issues and I can now tolerate touching other people; I'm not afraid of it like I used to be. I was determined to become a man who would treat you as the precious woman you are to me and not drive you away. I know I'm too late and you're married, Amy, but there it is. I love you."

"Sheldon . . . I love you too." Amy didn't know what to do or what to think. He still loved her after all these years. He'd become a different man for her. It was like he came straight out of her favorite novel, her very own Mr Darcy, and unlike Elizabeth, she'd walked away from her Mr Perfect.

Only she couldn't ever regret that decision. Her Dave had been exactly who she'd needed when she needed him, and she wanted to think she had been the same for him. Thinking of him, missing him, brought tears to her eyes.

"I'm sorry I made you cry," Sheldon said. Even in the dim pub interior he could see the tear stains that wetted her face. It was too dark to be sure but he was fairly certain she was still crying. He'd upset her. Despite all his efforts to change to be the man worthy of her, at the end of the day he still failed. Amy was crying and it was all his fault.

"These aren't sad tears, Sheldon. Well, they are, but they aren't," Amy explained, and she knew Sheldon would be baffled by that revelation. "And if you hadn't interrupted me before, I would have told you that my husband passed away a year ago. He died in a car crash."

"I'm sorry for your loss. I know how much the death of a family member hurts," Sheldon said sympathetically. Twenty years ago, Sheldon Cooper never would have felt sympathy for the death of Amy's husband; the man who stole her away from him. And yet he was serious in his sympathy. If he could, he would put aside his jealously and bring Dave Gibbs back to life simply so Amy could be happy with her chosen mate. He'd long ago accepted that he'd do whatever was necessary to make Amy happy. Even if it meant sending her into the arms of someone else, literally and metaphorically.

"Thank you, Sheldon. That means a lot to me. He was a good husband and I loved him, but I've come to terms with my loss. You know my daughter Cassie is exactly like him? She adores you just like he always did. She's studying theoretical physics in Potsdam now, and she's seventeen."

"You must be proud of her," Sheldon said. Amy saw the way he held back. She recognized when Sheldon Cooper felt pain, and that was certainly how he felt now.

"I am. And my son, Felix, is at my alma mater studying music."

"Harvard."

"Yes."

Amy saw Sheldon bite back his first words, probably some scathing condemnation of the fine arts as a profession and studying any field that wasn't a science was worthless. Amy appreciated his newfound restraint. The Sheldon she thought she knew would not have held back his hurtful comments no matter who the recipient was.

"That's a good school. I'd watch any child of yours perform," Sheldon said instead. Amy saw the uncertainty on his face. What was he thinking about? What if the children were his instead of Dave's? No. That couldn't be it. Sheldon didn't want children. He'd been more than empathetic on that point. Whatever that particular expression meant Amy supposed she would never know.

A question came to her and she wondered if she should ask it. Their conversation was . . . there were no words she could use to describe it. It was going both well and poorly, and there was not a thing about it she would change. The raw honesty of Sheldon's confession might still have the remnants of her tears on her face, but to hear what he had to say was worth it. With him, it always was.

"Earlier you said that you heard I'd resigned. How did you know?"

Sheldon looked embarrassed, something he rarely ever was. She expected him to come up with some poorly constructed lie that she'd either accept because it was better than fighting with him or she would riddle the lie with holes over and over until it was exposed and Sheldon was forced to confess the truth.

"I told everyone I came here for my career, but the truth was I came to find you. I had to tell you everything and apologize for the pain I caused. And now I have, I should probably leave you alone. I've hurt you enough for one lifetime."

"Do you want to know something, Sheldon?"

"Anything." When it came to her, Sheldon always wanted to know more.

"I resigned because I was offered a job at Caltech and with Dave gone and the twins at uni, I had nothing else keeping me here. It was time to return home."

"Isn't this your home now?" Sheldon asked, confused. As far as he'd come, there were still some things about human emotions he suspected he would never understand no matter how hard he tried. He was too different to ever really understand the mundane difficulties of every day life.

"Home isn't a place. It's the people. Dave and Cassie and Felix were my home for awhile. But when I was with you and everyone else back in California, that's when I was actually home. You and your friends were the first people who ever accepted me for who I was. I'll be forever grateful to you for that, at least. I needed to return to California. It was time to go back home and be with the people who made me into the woman I am."

Sheldon turned his hands over and Amy was surprised to realize her hands were still resting atop his. He laced their fingers together. He opened his mouth more than once, to say what Amy was not sure, but eventually he fell silent and settled for running his thumb over the top of her palm.

"You should return to Caltech. Without tenure, your job isn't as secure as mine."

That was more like Sheldon, but his tone was softer now and less mocking. He really did not intend to upset her. And yet she thought that after telling him about Dave's death he'd be open to trying again. That was what brought her back to London. When she left it was to escape him. When she returned it was to find him. Funny how he always factored into her decisions even when they were broken up and she married someone else.

"My flight back is tomorrow, actually," Amy said. She only had a weekend to come after all.

Sheldon pulled his hands away from hers and Amy missed their warmth and security, but she also did not miss the way he fumbled for something in his messenger bag. He pulled out a black pouch that was familiar but she could not place where it came from.

"I started carrying this around when I got here in hopes of running into you. I guess I didn't want to take it out because it meant accepting that you really weren't here. Anyways, this belongs to you."

He handed the pouch to her and Amy had a strong sense of deja vu. As she opened the drawstrings and reached her hand inside, she felt the familiar points. The tiara Sheldon gave her all those years ago.

"Sheldon! I can't accept this." She cinched the bag back up and handed it to him but instead of taking it he wrapped both her hands around the back and held his overtop of hers, refusing to allow her to relinquish her grasp.

"I bought that for you to apologize long before I could tell you that I was sorry. Even though we aren't together anymore, that tiara belongs to you. I'm sorry I hurt you but I'm glad you were able to find the life you wanted even if it doesn't involve me anymore. I love you, Amy Farrah Fowler. I'll always love you."

Sheldon stood up from the table, leaving a stunned Amy still holding the tiara. "Goodbye," he said and walked away.

Neither seemed to notice when Sheldon said the wrong name. As far as Amy was concerned, even had he called her by her legal name it wouldn't have felt right. After seeing Sheldon again and listening to his confession, she knew that the last name she wanted wasn't Fowler or Gibbs. It was Cooper.

Before she could summon her mental capacity to call him back and tell him she wanted to try again, or even to get his number, he was gone, leaving her with no way to contact him and a very expensive diamond tiara in her hands.

"Goodbye," Amy said in reply even though Sheldon was already out the door and couldn't possibly hear her. She stood from the table and in a state of shock made her way to the hotel room she reserved last minute. The only thing keeping her body moving in the right direction was years of familiarity walking through London and the tiny blue lines on CityMapper pointing her way. Somehow she made it back to her room and she held on fast to tiara as she collapsed into the bed, huddled into a ball.

She'd come to find Sheldon and what did she expect? For them to get back together? Now she held the only token she still had of him, but this time it was in the knowledge that she'd be returning to California the next day and Sheldon would still be in London. He still loved her and her husband was gone. He could have made a move and yet he walked away again.

It was as he said. Their relationship was long ago and flawed in its own little ways that even though he'd improved, and even though she'd changed, they still couldn't make it work. They were star crossed lovers, doomed to be forever apart. That was effectively what he said, wasn't it? The barriers between them were too great to ever overcome. It was his fault, as he'd admitted, but also hers. She'd pushed him too far too fast, was unwilling to settle for too little; here she was instead. Her children were away at university and her husband dead and she had no one else who relied on her. She was well and truly alone.

Perhaps she could have stomached the red pill had Sheldon found someone else. She could have accepted her lack of claim on him then. But he wasn't and she wasn't and they still loved each other and he was gone. It made no sense and she hurt badly. She did not know what to do, only that it was a unique kind of pain she experienced now, even when she'd left Sheldon for Dave.

Dave. She didn't regret him. Not at all. He was wonderful. She loved him as much as she did Sheldon, but it wasn't a passionate kind of love. It was a comfortable love, one they built their small little family on. A love that was enough for her while they were together but a love she could move on from now even as she missed him almost daily. The truth was, she never stopped loving Sheldon even when she loved Dave.

Only Sheldon must have taken her marriage as a declaration that she'd forgotten about him. To many people, not just him, it would seem that way. She had love enough for two men, and she'd managed to loose them both. Not that it should matter anymore; she had the children she wanted. But it still mattered. She'd return to Caltech on the morrow and go on with her life. Science needed her.

Science, her third love, would have to be good enough for her now.

* * *

 **AN:**

Jessica: Thank you. I cried as well during quite a few of the chapters, both writing and editing. I know there are an atrocious amount of grammar errors. I am a grammar snob as well, but since I do a lot of academic writing (I was writing my thesis at the same time as this story), I save my grammar fanaticism for where it matters most in real life. Writing fanfic is fun for me, and if I allowed myself to get dragged down in perfecting the grammar, it would become miserable and I'd never finish. If you find certain problems that you come across most often, please tell me and I'll work on them. Also, when people point out a specific error I do go back and fix them. Other than that, I read through each chapter once or twice for grammatical errors that leap out at me and then call it good enough.


	70. Chapter 70

AN: Look at me actually posting my Friday chapter on a Friday. That's all thanks to Jessica who was kind enough to beta for me.

* * *

Left to her own devices for the afternoon, Amy ventured to the graveyard. She had not been there since the funeral, and yet she did not know the next time she would be able to come. Standing in front of the grave, she felt more alone than ever. She left flowers for Dave, and in her mind, unreasonable as she knew it was, she imagined they would remain vibrant and alive, forever marking his grave, not subject to decay.

When she got back to California, it was business as usual. Though she worried about being questioned for taking personal leave soon after starting, there was no mention of it. She was just another employee working in the cogs of the machine that made the university great. More often than not she joined Leonard, Howard, and Raj for lunch, though on many days it was just her and Raj as Leonard and Howard were located across campus as they did their work for the military. Amy could not help but think their biggest problem was the maths, and had they brought Sheldon into the fold, they would be further along than they currently were. But history, as people say, is history. There was no use thinking of what might have been.

She told Penny and Bernadette of her encounter with Sheldon and they were able to offer little insight other than the fact that Sheldon was a tad unusual. It was not very helpful. But then again, what did they know? She was there and they weren't.

"He really apologized for being an ass?" Bernadette's high pitched voice squeaked in incredulity. They were laying on the beach enjoying the sun. Beach days, something Amy missed about California. No matter how much fun the English might appear to be having in the frigid cold water, English beaches simply weren't the same.

"Yup."

"Never thought Sheldon would be capable of that. He really did grow up. Did he actually tell you he still loved you?"

"Yes." The thrum of her heart picked up as she remembered that he told her he loved her not once, or even twice, but many times. Her heart raced at the way he let her hold his hands, how he even initiated contact when she tried to hand the tiara back to him.

"And you told him you still loved him?" Bernadette asked.

"Again, yes," Amy said. She did not know how many times the girls would insist on going over the conversation. Hadn't they covered everything during the first girls night since she got back from her spontaneous trip to England? Obviously not.

The waves crashed in the background and the sun rays heated her pale skin. She hoped the SPF 70 would be enough to prevent a burn.

"And you told him about Dave?" It was Penny's turn to ask a question.

"Yes."

"And he still didn't make a move on you?" Bernadette did not seem to believe her.

"No he didn't."

She purposefully omitted the part where he returned the tiara. For some reason, that was too private to share.

Once upon a time, she would have told them everything. While they were still close, she no longer told them everything. Not like she used to. There were certain moments that were private and only for her.

"Are you sure you didn't miss something?" Penny tried to confirm.

She felt like she was undergoing the Spanish Inquisition.

All she wanted to do was lie on the sand, basking in the warm sun and listening to the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, children playing, and seagulls prowling overhead.

"Sheldon was very clear that he said everything he wanted to and that he 'hurt me enough for one lifetime'."

His words still had a ring of finality about them even as she quoted them to her friends.

His actions, even more than his words, were evidence that he really had changed.

"Sweetie, I think even Sheldon doesn't know what he wants. If you still love him, you shouldn't give up," Penny said.

Ever optimistic Penny, even more beautiful on the inside than she was on the outside.

"No. He says he still loves me and that he misses me. I told him about Dave and that I still love him. Sheldon had plenty of chances to make a move, but he didn't even ask for my number. I just need to accept that we are over." She paused a bit. "I don't want to be alone."

"You have us," Bernadette reminded her.

Yes, Amy did have them. Her two best friends, who somehow managed to stick with her even though the distance suggested they wouldn't be able to. They were the people she could lean on more than anything.

Distantly, she heard a woman's voice calling 'watch out'. A football slammed into Bernadette's thigh and not moments later a foot caught over Amy's leg and there was an elbow suddenly thrust into her back as a child fell on top of her. She winced at the sharp stab and abruptly whipped her head up to see the wide eyes of a child staring at her.

"I'm so sorry," a woman said as she raced over to him. "Sweetie, what did I tell you about running without looking where you were going?"

"It's alright," Amy said, and Bernadette followed her example a bit more reluctantly.

"How old is he?" Penny asked the woman.

"Just turned five. Evan, apologize to these ladies."

"Don't wanna."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, and Amy recalled those trying times and the numerous embarrassments she'd been subjected to in similar circumstances. Some experiences, she supposed, were universal.

"Evan, now," the woman snapped, sounding frazzled.

"But momma, I didn't do anything wrong," the child attempted to argue.

"You hit one of these ladies with a ball and fell on another. Now apologize or I won't take you out for ice cream."

The mother and child engaged in a short staring contest, but evidently being deprived of ice cream was the worse scenario.

"S'ry," the child mumbled almost incoherently, clearly reluctant.

"It's alright," Amy said.

"Sorry to interrupt. Come along, Evan."

"He's changed a lot, hasn't he?" Amy said after a prolonged silence.

"I did try to tell you," Penny said.

Sheldon showed remorse, true remorse, and demanded nothing of her. He made it clear that he just wanted her to be happy. He didn't demand, didn't take, didn't push. He let her be.

Sheldon behaved, for the first time since Amy met him, selflessly.

He kept his distance because he didn't want to hurt her. He returned the tiara. He no longer needed to resort to an empty financial gesture because he was too proud to apologize.

He had sat across from her a man stripped of all his pride, a man who hadn't known real happiness and regretted it.

If she doubted that she would still love him and not the memory of him, she need not doubt anymore. Her heart fluttered as she recalled the conversation. She loved him more than she would have thought possible.

"Let's go swim," Amy suggested abruptly, needing a way to avoid the way her thoughts tended.

"The water's cold," Penny complained, but nevertheless she pulled her body up to stand.

Years worth of bear claws were starting to get to her but Amy thought Penny still looked beautiful.

"If we must," Bernadette agreed.

The ocean water was freezing against her toes, but nowhere near as biting as the loch in the highlands. Amy ran forward and dove into the water, and when she resurfaced she could taste the salt water on her lips.

Life and joy and the feeling of bliss that Amy didn't know how to describe.

"Come on, bestie. Get your hair wet," Amy called and splashed Penny in the face.

Penny blinked in stunned shock for a second. "Oh no you didn't," she replied, and dunked Bernadette under the water.

Bernadette spluttered as she came back up for air. "Hey! I didn't do anything to you. It was Amy."

The shorter blond jumped on the taller one and forced her under water in return.

"Amy started it," Penny complained, her wet hair now dripping down her back.

"Good point," Bernadette said, "Get her!"

Somehow, the four foot eleven but surprisingly scary blond led the vengeful splash attack on Amy.

Any heartbreak she might have felt was quickly forgotten.

Frequent contact with Cassie and Felix, or at least as frequent as their schedules allowed, assured her they were still doing alright. Cassie admired her mentor perhaps even more than she admired Sheldon. Felix was expanding the number of instruments he played, and on last count he was up to six, with the violin and piano as his two primary ones.

Now she was back in California, Amy could not stop herself from visiting her parents again; she needed one final spot of closure before she could shut out that chapter of her life completely.

She walked into the lion's den that was her childhood home. For the most part it looked exactly the same as it had when she was ten, yet for being older it was scarier. No longer home. It had not been home for a very long time.

"You have no right to tell me what to do," Amy said by way of greeting. It was rude but no less than her mother deserved.

Mrs Fowler sighed. "You're right. I apologize."

Amy stared at her, dumbfounded. Of all the things she might have expected her mother to say, that was not one of them. In fact, it came straight from the list of 'Things Mrs Fowler will only say when hell freezes over'.

"Amy," Mrs Fowler said, "I know I wasn't the best mother." _That's putting it lightly_ , Amy thought. "But I do love you. I hope you can forgive me."

Mrs Fowler appeared to be earnest, and were she anything else Amy would not have even considered her request. "I'll try. I'm not sure if I can, but I'll try." It was as good as she could offer at the moment.

"Let's go for a walk, Amy," Mr Fowler then suggested. They left her mother at the house and the two strolled casually through the neighborhood.

"Despite what happened, we're really glad you're back," Mr Fowler said.

"I'm happy to be back," Amy said. It was the truth, even if it was a bit bitter.

"Maybe you can come over more often? I've been talking to your mother and it may be too late, but we want to do better by you."

"What brought on the sudden change?" Amy asked, her suspicion aroused at the unusual and unbelievable of turn of events.

"A lot of things, really. Most of all we have only seen our grandchildren twice. That tends to put things into perspective."

"I still don't get it," Amy said.

"We may not have realized it in time but your mother and I have said a lot of things to you we shouldn't have. We pushed you away and now we don't have a relationship with your children. It might be a little late to change that, but we'd like to try."

That part of the change she could understand. What she still did not know was what motivated their change of mind.

"Yes," Amy said impatiently, "But why now? Why didn't you figure this out before?"

"Because before our daughter was a little girl who needed protecting."

He prevaricated and she knew it. She hadn't needed protecting in a long time.

"From mom," Amy muttered under her breath, and if Mr Fowler heard it he chose to ignore her comment.

"But you're a grown woman now, and it may have taken us a long time to see it, but we do now. Please, do not humiliate an old man so by making him admit to past mistakes."

That was more believable. Not yet a full explanation, but it was enough for her.

"It's not going to be easy," Amy said at last. That was the understatement of the century. She was not even certain whether her parents could win back her affection, yet she wanted to reconcile with them. She sought them out for that very purpose. Life was too short to waste in hatred. If she didn't move on she would regret living in constant conflict. Call her selfish, but she did not want to live with that type of pressure.

"If you really want to make amends, you'll stay away from me."

Her dad flinched at her harsh tone.

Rather than reply directly, he said, "You picked up a London accent." His own northern accent was barely perceptible to her keen ear, having diminished much over the years. "I didn't know that."

"You can't blame me for staying away."

"I don't. If what you need from us is distance, your mother and I will stay away, but is there is anything I can do?"

"There is. One thing," Amy said, thinking furiously, years of pent up emotion ready to burst forth. She was tired of it all. The fear and anger towards her parents, the feeling of worthlessness when her mother berated her and tried to take over her life. "Why did you let mother walk all over me? Why were you a coward and never defended me?"

Maybe she didn't want to know the answer, but as past experience proved, curiosity was her strength and weakness wrapped up into one.

Mr Fowler sighed. "Letting your mother walk all over you was easier than risking ending up alone. I'm a bloody coward." Amy heard more of a Northern accent form, and wondered if talking to her brought back his childhood tongue. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree does it?"

The question was rhetorical, but the anger at her father was back.

"I'm nothing like you," she spat furiously. "Because if anyone, _anyone_ , hurt my children the way mother hurt me . . ."

She didn't need to finish her threat. It was clear.

Coming to the defense of her children, newborn and innocent, was when her relationship with her parents started to change. When she started to defend herself. When fighting with them became worth the effort.

"I kept Felix and Cassie away from you, but they're seventeen now. I'll bring them over sometime, and if they want a relationship with you, it will be their choice. I won't pressure them either way."

"Your mom and I would appreciate that," Mr Fowler said, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. They don't really know you and they might not want to. But if they do decide they want to know their grandparents, and you or mother try to pull any of the shit that you did on me, I'll do anything to protect them."

"Nevertheless, you've made an old man a bit happier. Tell me, what are they doing now?"

And she did. She told him only a little, their fields of study and their education. It was enough for now.

Just as her relationship with her parents changed, her friendships did as well. Hanging out with them all was different than before. They still ate dinner together, but it was more of a family affair. Leonard and Penny were busy with their child and Amy did not envy them the early stages of childhood. Older now, she would not have the energy anymore to take care of younger children. She and Bernadette became mothers when they were younger. Amy did not know how Penny managed the exhaustion at her age. When Amy's children were off to university, albeit a year younger than the norm, Penny and Leonard were just starting out. She and Bernadette offered their advice and occasional babysitting. Well, she offered to babysit. Bernadette only offered advice.

On the days she got to babysit, Amy relished not being alone. Yet at the end of the day she was grateful to give the child back to the parents. There was only so much she could take. She would not want a child of her own again, and as she'd gone through menopause already, she could not have another child anyways.

When Christmas time rolled around, she was stoked to pick up the twins from the airport. She'd been able to get them to coordinate their arrival times because she only wanted to have to make one trip to the airport.

In retrospect, maybe she should have picked them up separately. Felix and Cassie vied for her attention, each speaking over the other to tell their stories from their first semester of uni.

Exhausted from the split conversation, Amy finally said, "Enough. One at a time, please."

Wasn't this supposed to get easier once they moved out on their own and learned how to be functional adults?

Her attempt to fix the problem only escalated the argument over who would get to speak first, and by the time they got back from the airport, she'd heard very little.

It did not take long to give them a tour of the house.

"It feels strange being here for Christmas," Cassie observed. The only other time she remembered being in California was when she was five and it was only for a two week vacation. Felix, at the very least, had had a full semester to adjust to living in the States.

"But good?" Amy asked.

Maybe she should have consulted them about moving.

"I don't know. I miss the lights."

"There are plenty of lights here as well. In fact, Penny and I thought we'd take everyone to see the zoo lights."

Maybe going to the zoo was more her thing than her children's, but the suggestion was met with excitement all the same.

They went, though Penny and Leonard's daughter gained the most enjoyment by far out of the excursion.

It was nearing the end of break and Felix and Cassie were readying for their flights back when Amy recalled the promise she made to her father.

"If you two aren't busy, would you like to visit your grandparents?" she asked them.

Felix and Cassie exchanged glances, lost in a communication she would not understand.

Cassie shrugged. "Sure."

"Why don't you talk about them much?" Felix then asked, more perceptive than his sister.

"It's complicated," Amy said.

She sent her dad a quick text letting him know she was bringing over the children. When they came home for summer break, she would finally have to teach them how to drive, though in the near future the skill would be more useful for her son than her daughter.

The drive took a while, and by the time she pulled into the driveway of the familiar house, she was starting to regret her decision.

The door opened. They were spotted and it was too late to back out.

 _Steady on_ , Amy reminded herself.

"Felix! Cassie! Look at the both of you. So grown up."

Mrs Fowler swept her children up into a hug that was more enthusiastic than any Amy had ever been the recipient of.

"And off to college too."

"Uni," Cassie automatically corrected.

"So smart too, just like your mother."

Her personality, Amy knew, was more similar to her father's, but Mrs Fowler made no comment on that. At least she wasn't being downright rude to them.

"Thank you," Mr Fowler mouthed at her, and she nodded curtly in reply.

"Don't stand outside. Come in, come in," Mrs Fowler ushered them inside.

Cassie and Felix looked around the living room. They were too young the last time they visited to remember the house.

"So Felix, I hear you're studying music at Harvard. That's where Amy went too."

Felix looked briefly at her for guidance, and she inclined her head for him to speak.

"I do. That is, I am, studying music. My primary instruments are violin and piano." He sounded exactly like his father when he was nervous.

"I'd like to hear you play sometime," Mr Fowler said.

"Thank you." Felix smiled uncomfortably at the attention, more comfortable on display with an instrument in hand.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Mrs Fowler asked. Frankly, Amy was slightly impressed she was not made uncomfortable yet by her mother.

Clearly, she judged too soon.

"Water for me please," Amy said.

Felix asked for coffee.

"A stout if you have it," Cassie said.

Amy felt it. The shift in the room and the sudden chill.

"Dear, why don't you go show the children the garden," Mrs Fowler said stiffly.

Were they not on their best behavior around practical strangers, both the twins would have bristled at being referred to as children—a habit they picked up in their preteen years and never lost.

Mr Fowler looked between his wife and Amy, clearly seeing the trouble brewing that the twins were thankfully oblivious too.

"Aright," he said meekly. _Coward_. At least she now had the satisfaction of knowing why he still let her mother demean her without trying to stop it.

The change, despite whatever realization they'd briefly come to, was well acted but hollow. She should have known better than to give into the manipulations she'd been subjected to her entire life.

She had know but she just wanted to believe the best in them even now.

Felix and Cassie followed their grandfather outside, leaving Amy in the unenviable situation of being alone with her mother. Not that the twins could have known how distasteful she found the current situation.

When the door to the backyard closed, Mrs Fowler turned on Amy.

"You let them drink alcohol," she hissed at Amy.

Her mother's beliefs about alcohol were puritanical. In fact, Mrs Fowler considered alcohol as bad as meth or cocaine.

Amy squared her shoulders. Let the judgement descend. It did not matter to her. "What I allow my children to do or not is none of your concern," she spat.

"Even if it wasn't the devil's drink, they're not twenty-one. I didn't raise you to be a lawbreaker." Why did she even bother speaking?

At that, Amy stood, unable to remain seated any longer.

"They're seventeen, almost eighteen. They grew up in England. Cassie now lives in Germany. She drinks beer. Get over it." _You don't have a place where your opinion matters in their lives._

"It's poison." Technically, Mrs Fowler was correct but angered as she was, Amy was not about to give her even that one small point.

"If you were sincere in wanting a relationship with them, I suggest you not condemn their life choices like you did mine." Or maybe she wanted Mrs Fowler to continue acting according to her natural inclinations. It would put Cassie and Felix off of their grandparents and Amy would not have to wonder if Mrs Fowler would say something to hurt them.

"I am not condemning their choices. I simply think a good mother would have—"

"Stop!"

She couldn't do it. Not anymore. She'd put up with them for a long while, but no more. She wasn't going to be blamed. Not again.

She saw it clearly, what she'd been trying to tell herself for years.

As a child she was different. Her parents couldn't understand her. Neither could her classmates or teaches. The other children mocked and bullied her.

Fragile in her youth, they all ate away at her self esteem. She lashed out in retaliation, becoming shameless in the intimate details of her person she doled out while keeping her innermost feelings a secret even from herself.

Her mother judged and ridiculed her for her defense mechanisms, and only made the problem worse.

Then Sheldon came along, and she fell into his trap. That same trap. When everyone her entire life looked down on her and insulted her, she thought it was what normal relationships were supposed to be like. Sheldon looked down on her work but she was so relieved at finally gaining some sort of acceptance, she went along with it.

Penny and Bernadette mocked her as well, though she'd been too blind to see it. They came to accept and like her once she became more like them, and then they became her best friends. Sheldon's change, if their one meeting was indication enough, occurred much later in his life, but he'd changed as well. She felt the difference in the way he treated her then. Respect. For the first time, he respected her enough to understand that his desires did not always come first, that for any relationship there must be a give and take. He didn't belittle her accomplishments and he humbled himself to apologize, even though he did not have to and she would not have expected it of him.

Just as she started to say enough was enough, she stumbled quite literally upon Dave, and things started changing. He accepted her for who she was. He told her she was beautiful without prompting, he admired her for her intelligence, and he showed an interest for her work rather than disrespecting it for not align with his own interests. Maybe she was independent, but she liked being cared for. She liked being put first, and she did the same for him. They came to each other broken, and while there were arguments and pain, they helped each other. Relied on each other.

For a woman who had never known what a healthy relationship was supposed to look like, she was able to find that tentative balance together with Dave.

Before Amy even knew she was changing, Dave's acceptance helped build her back up, more confident in herself and assured in who she was. In who she wanted to be.

Dave made it easier for her to stomach her mother's insults, soothing her and assuring her that there was some affection in the world directed at her. Affection and love that required nothing of her in return, though she gave it most willingly. She defended him in kind, the first small act in her rebellion.

Dave wormed his way past her defense mechanisms and taught her to respect herself. The love she felt for her children allowed her to stand up to her parents for the first time in her life.

And now Mrs Fowler—a hypocrite of the worst order—dared accuse her of being a bad mother.

Now, now she was going to stand up not for her late husband or for her children, but for herself.

"You have no right, no _fucking_ right, to judge my parenting abilities. You think growing up as your daughter was easy? Was fun?

"You controlled me and destroyed my self-esteem, and you damn well screwed me up. You say you love me, but what kind of mother calls her child a harlot and a whore out of love? What kind of mother destroys her child's abilities to have friends? You never loved me. You don't know what love is."

The anger, as it came over her, was ferocious in its intensity, having spent the better part of nearly sixty years brewing. She wasn't done either. Not by a long shot. No. The force was unleashed and it wasn't close to stopping.

"If you say I'm a bad parent, what does that make you? At least I love my children. I support and encourage them no matter what. Maybe along the way, I screwed some things up. Hell, Cassie only has one friend, Felix, and maybe I didn't socialize her enough. I don't know. But I tried. At least I fucking _tried_."

"Language," Mrs Fowler said weakly. The frail woman seemed to shrink back into her own wrinkled skin.

No more. She didn't have the power anymore. Amy was going to wrestle it back.

"When my children moved out, they still called me. They still came home for Christmas rather than hiding out in a basement because the dorms were closed and they couldn't face spending a month cooped up in a house with their bitch of a mother."

She wasn't talking about Felix and Cassie anymore. Not really. She was talking about herself.

"I let you get into my head and manipulate me until I couldn't stand up for myself, but I'm different now. I've changed. I'm not a little girl anymore who you can lock in a closet until she complies. I let this . . . this atrocity between us fester, but not anymore. I'd hate you, but you're not worth it.

"You're worth nothing."

"Mum?" Two voices, much quieter than hers and in concert.

She whipped around, and the storm she felt started to abate at the fear she saw there. No. She wasn't her mother. She wasn't messed up. Not anymore.

She saw the cycle for what it was and she was out. No matter how many times she tried to stand up to her mother, ultimately she gave in to Mrs Fowler's manipulations and let herself be drawn back in only to be burned. No more.

"How much did you hear?" She tried to recall exactly what she said and speculate how much it would disturb the twins.

Her heart beat furiously in her chest.

Mr Fowler silently observed her explosion as well. Amy looked pointedly at him.

"And you. You're a damn coward."

He winced at her accusation, but really he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe he did not take the active role her mother did, but he stood by and watched while she fell prey to the vicious cycle and did nothing to intervene.

"Mum, I want to leave now," Felix said, looking between her and her mother.

"Me too," Cassie seconded.

There was more she could say to Mrs Fowler, and a lot more than that she wanted to yell in cathartic release, but it would make no difference whatsoever.

"Alright. Let's go," Amy said to them, forcing her voice to be as neutral as possible for their sakes.

Mrs Fowler seemingly regained her bluster, for she drew herself to full height—not very tall since she was hunched over, frail bones allowing her body to long ago succumb to gravity—and said, "Look what you've done now, ungrateful child. You've destroyed my relationship with my only grandchildren."

 _Whose fault is that_? Amy thought, but there was no need to voice it aloud.

"You never had a relationship with them," Amy said cooly over her shoulder as she waited for her children to leave, "and you never will. Goodbye."

Amy stepped out the door, about to close it behind her, and said her parting word. "Beatrice."

Without having to look back, Amy heard the thump of her mother collapsing to the floor.

* * *

AN:

Skimming33: Nice to hear from you and I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I too find the Shamy relationship on the show problematic, but still adore them. And thank you for the feedback. Smiley-face not necessary but much appreciated.

Francine: I won't debate that people with highly successful careers can and frequently do have successful relationships as well because I agree with you. In fact, the divorce rate among nobel laureates is much lower than the general population. I'm not here to judge what choices people make, or to say that people who choose to have/not to have families are happier. However, Sheldon on the show mentions many, many times that he suppresses his emotions. In this story, eventually there was going to be repercussions. He went for a long while not caring, until he cared and he didn't know how to deal with the backlash because he never learned. Amy frequently talks about her unhappy childhood and she is desperate to have companionship and affection (even saying she would have gone along with a cult if Penny and Bernadette hadn't gotten to her first). In this story, she finally found that, and even then she still went through a long spell when she was desperately unhappy. Remember that? Maybe Sheldon could have felt success and children were not mutually exclusive, but it wouldn't have changed this outcome one bit. Even the smartest people can act irrationally and be blinded to their situation. It's frustrating and upsetting but it's part of what makes us human. It's why this story is emotional. It's why parts of it make me cry, and, I'm guessing, why I'm not the only one.


	71. Chapter 71

**AN:** Thanks to Jessica for the beta. Remaining errors are all mine.

* * *

 **Sheldon's POV Part II**

Providence brought Amy to him that day two weeks after he arrived at her former workplace. He was leaving for lunch and there she was, drenched from the rain and more beautiful than he remembered her.

He invited her along with him and she appeared nervous. He apologized to her. He made her cry. He hated himself for being the cause of her tears. She also smiled at him and that made him feel happy for the first time in twenty years. Twenty years being the precise time since she broke up with him.

She was a widow. Her husband was dead. Her children were off at college. She went to work at Caltech, where he worked, to be with him presumably. She said something about wanting to return home to their friends and Pasadena but he thought he knew better. What other reason would there be for a well settled woman to change her job yet again and move far away? All the moves couldn't be good for her career.

A part of him knew she was available. Her moving to California had to be some signal she wanted him back. Then again, maybe she did just want to be close to her friends again now that she felt alone. He should give her the benefit of the doubt and believe her, no matter how much more he selfishly wanted to read more into her explanation.

He told her he still loved her and she told him she still loved him, but he also had done too much to her to be easily forgiven. He could not risk hurting her again. He had stated his desires to be with her again, and she rejected him. He was not sure he could handle a second rejection from her. The first time destroyed him as he first internalized it and then spent years, the majority of it in therapy, fixing everything that went wrong. He could not afford such pain again.

Besides, she was leaving for Pasadena again the next day. He could not proclaim his desire to be her boyfriend again when she was about to leave. He knew that what they had was too broken to be fixed over a great distance. He was obligated to finish his year at UCL, and then he could return to Pasadena and Caltech and be around Amy once more. Only a year before they could be living in the same city again.

He was able to touch her hands, and rather than just tolerate it silently as he learned to tolerate, he actually enjoyed the contact. Her hands were soft and he never wanted to let them go. Before he held on too tightly, he handed her the tiara and walked away. She tried to protest and give it back to him, but it was hers all along. It was the tiara that was the final motivation he needed to start his transformation, and it was the tiara that sent him to London. The tiara was hers and would always be hers, just like the wedding ring his mother still kept. He could not hold onto it anymore. It belonged to her and giving it back was the final bit of closure he needed.

She seemed both stunned and sad when he abruptly said goodbye to her and left, but the truth was he needed time to process the fact that she was a widow and she still loved him.

Perhaps he made a mistake walking away from her with no further explanation. His behavior must have hurt her but he needed time. He could not afford to be hurt again. He did not exchange contact information with her either.

The one benefit to his time in England was the frequent opportunities presented to him to ride trains. There were still speeches and presentations and interviews to give after all, though their frequency had slowed greatly since when he first got the prize. However, he knew for the rest of his life he would be plagued by those obligations.

It was a long and lonely year without her. Never had he felt greater relief than when he was on the plane back home, but just as before, there was one stop he needed to make between London and Pasadena. He flew home to Texas, and his mother greeted him with open arms. He explained he was only there for the day and would be going back to Pasadena, but there was something he wanted to bring with him.

"Do you still have Meemaw's ring?" he asked, unsure whether it was appropriate to ask for it back but wanting it all the same.

"Why? Have you meet somebody?" his mother asked.

Sheldon sighed. Uncertain as his plan was, he did not want to tell her until he was sure. He did not want to disappoint her.

"Yes."

"When do I get to meet her?" Mary asked. She would give the ring to him because he asked for it, and she trusted Sheldon to choose a good woman. By this point in his life, she'd accept him settling down with anybody as long as he loved her. Her son had been through a world of hurt, and she would love to see him happy at long last.

"You already have. It's Amy," he said, unsure whether his mother would give him the ring if he evaded her question.

"Ain't she married? You can't go break'n up her family, Shelly," Mary scolded.

"She's a widow. Her husband died two years ago." He hated relating personal information but he needed his mother to understand.

"You sure about this?" Mary asked, "I'll give you the ring, but you don't seem all that happy."

Sheldon settled back into the couch. "I'm sure. I . . . I will never love anyone but her. I'm nervous I hurt her too much in the past for her to ever risk her heart again, but I have to try. She moved back to Pasadena, and I haven't seen her in years—" he did not need to explain the one time they met in London because it would be too complicated "—but I've spent so long without her that I have to try at least once more. The only time in my life I've been truly happy is when I was with her. Please, mom, I . . . I hope you can understand."

"Oh Shelly," Mary said. Sheldon relaxed into her hug. He left the next day with the ring in his bag. It was time to go back to Pasadena.

It was time to try and make Amy his.


	72. Chapter 72

AN: Thanks to Jessica for the beta.

Disclaimer: Some dialogue from 3x23.

* * *

Amy was a bit surprised when she received a text from Penny asking her to meet up at Penny and Leonard's house after work. Amy thought Penny was supposed to be picking Sheldon up from the airport now that his year long sabbatical was over and he would be returning to Pasadena, but his plans could have changed as far as she knew. She had not had any contact with Sheldon since she found him at UCL, and she was unsure how she felt about him returning to Pasadena. They would be coworkers again. She was not sure how she was going to handle that development either.

Regardless of her feelings about Sheldon's return, even after a year back in Pasadena she still felt the need to make up for missed time with her bestie after all the years she spent away. So rather than drive to her house after work, she made her way to Penny and Leonard's home.

She let herself in with the key Penny gave her and called out her friend's name. There was no response. Puzzled why Penny would ask her over if she herself would not be there, she made her way into the living room.

Someone was there and it wasn't Penny.

"Sheldon. You're back," she said. His presence was a surprise, though whether it was a good or bad one she could not tell.

"I got back this morning," Sheldon said.

"Where's Penny? She said she wanted to meet me here." Going with the facts was easier. It cut out the hurt she'd felt after their heartfelt meeting when she'd had no further contact from Sheldon.

Amy became suspicious as he assumed the guilty expression he favored when lying. How many years ago had she last seen that expression and how did she remember it so well? Sheldon was the one with the eidetic memory. Not her.

"She's not here because I asked her to text you." That Amy believed even though he was fidgeting which should indicate he was nervous about something, perhaps lying.

"Okay. But why?" she asked. She could not deal with Sheldon right now. Not without time to prepare herself.

When he failed to contact her, she was sad, but she eventually accustomed herself to the fact that it simply wasn't meant to be. She never worked up the courage—or the inclination—to initiate contact. That being said, she was not up to being in the same room with him, alone no less, without any warning, when she had not expected to see him for days to come.

"Would you come into the kitchen please."

He changed the subject as he always did when he was uncomfortable, but knowing Sheldon, he would not give up on his plan. The sooner she indulged him, the sooner she could go back to her apartment and sort through her feelings until she felt calm enough to face him again.

"Very well, Sheldon." The next time she saw Penny, her friend would be on the receiving end of a scolding for her deception. That was for sure. "What can I do for you?"

She walked into Penny's kitchen, and it looked different. As soon as the door opened she was greeted by the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and as she looked at the normally cluttered kitchen island, she saw an array of pastries and biscotti. Strange.

She looked up at Sheldon, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry. The coffee shop closed down three years ago and this was the best I could do with short notice; the grocery store near here is dreadfully stocked." That was nervous rambling. She would bet on it.

"Sheldon," she warned. She was not in the mood to put up with his nonsense. Not when she was stood up by her bestie and feeling a bit miffed at the deception.

He handed her an index card. "Read," he instructed.

"Excuse me. I'm Amy Farrah Fowler. You're Sheldon Cooper." Her voice read blandly but she recalled those words she had spoken all those years ago. A second look around the kitchen told her that he'd attempted to recreate the coffee shop where they first met.

Her scientific curiosity got the better of her and, intrigued, she listened as Sheldon repeated his words.

"Hello Amy Farrah Fowler. I'm sorry to inform you that you've been taken in by unsupportable mathematics designed to prey on the gullible and the lonely. Additionally, I'm being blackmailed by a hidden dirty sock."

As he recited the words with the same intonation and expressions as he did the first time around, she was reminded of just how sexy his eidetic memory could be at times. While her memory might not be a match for the great Sheldon Cooper, when it came to the day they met, her memories were clear.

She did not even glance down at the card as she replied, "If that was slang, I'm unfamiliar with it. If that was literal, I share your aversion to soiled hosiery. In any case, I'm here because my mother and I have agreed that I will date at least once a year."

"Amy," Sheldon scolded, "Read from the cards." He even had that whine others found annoying but she found charming. Damn him. He was making her fall in love with him all over again. Then, without further interruption, he continued, "Interesting. My mother and I have the same agreement about church."

He handed her another index card, and that time Amy made a point of reading from the card even though she remembered exactly what her line was supposed to be.

"I don't object to the concept of a deity, but I'm baffled by the notion of one who takes attendance."

"Well then you might want to avoid east Texas."

Amy felt her breath hitch a little at the next index card. Oh this line she remembered best of all. How she wished she had never spoken it. In only a year, her mind would be completely change. She had Sheldon and Penny to thank for that.

Nevertheless, she was interested to see where Sheldon's plan went. Anything his brilliant mind came up with was bound to be spectacular.

"Noted. Now before this goes any further you should know that all forms of physical contact up to and including coitus are _not_ off the table."

Not. That wasn't what she had said. Sheldon had changed her words? Or more precisely, he'd added in one little word. But why? Sheldon never forgot anything. She much preferred the new version, but why would Sheldon go through all that effort just to change one word? Then again, with Sheldon, it was often the things he didn't say that were the most important of all. He was trying to tell her something. Did this mean he wanted to engage in coitus with her?

She found that unlikely. He never wanted it before, and while she had seen evidence of a change, she did not know how far it extended. As for herself, she could no longer be in a relationship without some form of physical intimacy.

Sheldon, however, was determined to continue the charade. "May I buy you a beverage?"

"Tepid water, please," Amy said before he had time to offer her the index card.

Sheldon went to the sink and filled a glass with the water she requested, but as he walked back towards her with the glass, he set it on the island out of her reach.

"Sheldon?" she asked. His actions puzzled her. Sheldon came up to her and took her hands in his. There was no flinch and no desire to flee. Instead, he looked perfectly comfortable, and Amy wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

"I know I wasn't the best boyfriend and that we haven't seen each other in years, except for that time I messed up last September, but I want to start over. I want to make this right."

"Sheldon—"

"Shush, Amy, I wasn't done yet," Sheldon reprimanded. That tone, soft yet caring and somehow strict at the same time, had her breathless with anticipation as she waited for what he would say next.

"With that being said, I wasted too much time before holding you at arm's length and I don't want to make that mistake again." Sheldon's Texas drawl became more pronounced, a sure sign that he was becoming more nervous. And Sheldon admitting to making a mistake? Unheard of.

"What I'm trying to say, perhaps not as eloquently as I rehearsed, is that I love you."

He was moving. Her heart was racing again. Oh Lord, what was he doing? He was on one knee, in front of her, and she knew that it couldn't be what it looked like. What it felt like. This was Sheldon Cooper. He never embraced unknown. Ever. And this. This was uncharted territory.

"So, Amy Farrah Fowler-Gibbs, will you give me a second chance and be my wife? Because I really want to be your husband." He paused. "Will you marry me?"

Her eyes were so fixed on Sheldon that she didn't even notice his hands were still moving until the glint of sun blinded her and she looked down at the proffered ring.

This was really happening. Sheldon Cooper was proposing to her. The future was riddled with uncertainties. Each of them were different from the couple who broke up twenty years ago, and yet here he was proposing marriage to her, sight unseen. What if he didn't like the Amy she'd become?

Then again, why wouldn't he? He was starting to sweat. His hand shook, almost imperceptibly, and Amy knew her time to think was running out. She had to make her decision, and yet, from the time she'd literally run into Sheldon last September, her decision was made. She was free to choose Sheldon at long last, and he her. There was no way she could say no to him.

"Yes." Her voice cracked on the one word. Then, gaining more confidence at the broad smile on his face, she giggled. "Yes. Sheldon. Yes, I'll marry you."

Sheldon slid the ring onto her finger, and he was standing up, and then he was towering over her, but all she could think about was the way his hands found their way to her hips to pull her body into his as he bent his head down to kiss her.

Those lips. She'd forgotten how good those lips tasted. How passionate he could be when he wanted to. His hands cautiously crept up her sides, but she wouldn't stop him. If he wanted to touch her, she'd never stop him. She loved the way he tentatively brushed his hands over her her layers of clothing.

When Sheldon pulled back from their kiss to give them air, the full force of what he did and what she agreed to struck her. Married. They were going to be married because Sheldon proposed and she accepted.

A new thought struck her. She had to plan a wedding. She had to tell Cassie and Felix. Although outsiders would probably say she and Sheldon were jumping in too fast, the timing felt right. Everything was finally falling into place. And yet, she felt the panic coming on. There was so much to do and little time to do it in.

"I can't," she started, as list upon list manifested in her thoughts about everything she would have to do.

Sheldon, however, was not privy to her innermost thoughts, and when Amy failed to finish her sentence, he looked devastated. "Amy?" he began.

She saw him trying not to hyperventilate, and that alone motivated her just enough to continue. "The date. The guests. The cake. The dress. Everything, Sheldon. I have to tell Cassie and Felix, and their father died two years ago, and they won't understand and—"

Now that he was reassured, Sheldon kissed her. He noted that it was an effective way to quiet her in the future. When he pulled back, he saw Amy had a dazed look on her face.

"Don't you worry, little lady. We can wait as long as you need."

Amy smiled and did not fail to notice the irony of how she used to be the one trying to speed up their relationship and now he was the one waiting for her to catch up to him. But then again, he must have been planning to propose. He'd known about this longer than she had.

Though there was so much to say, all she could do was admire the her ring instead. Simple and elegant. Just like them. "It's a beautiful ring."

"It was Meemaw's."

What was it about Sheldon being romantic that could make her heart thump wildly in her chest? She knew how much Meemaw meant to Sheldon. He must really love her if he was willing to give her his Meemaw's ring, especially now she was dead. The ring must be incredibly valuable to him.

"I'm honored," she said. It was the only thing she could say. She just wished she had the chance to meet his Meemaw before she died. Too late now.

"Yes. Well. She wanted me to give it to you. I've kept it for twenty-two years, you know."

A simple calculation told Amy more than Sheldon likely intended to reveal.

"Twenty-two years? But that was before we broke up."

"I know."

Amy's hand flew to cover her mouth. He'd had the ring before they ever broke up. He had his Meemaw's ring for her. That meant he'd been thinking about marriage. With her. And she'd stupidly gone and broken up with him because she was convinced he would never want her the way she wanted him. What an idiot she'd been. He'd proposed then, but she thought it to be out of a desperation to get her back rather than a genuine desire for marriage and all it entailed.

"You actually wanted to marry me?" Though perhaps she had long repressed it, Amy already knew the answer. She found the video of him in the Spock documentary, after all, and seen the way he'd broken down while talking about the ring. He was angry and hurt and she nearly called off her wedding because of it. How could she have forgotten? Now she saw the ring again, in person this time, it came flooding back to her.

Sheldon looked at her as if the answer should be obvious to someone as smart as her.

"I did." It was a hard admission.

The recent joy receded just a little bit. "It still wouldn't have worked out back then," Amy said. "I," she swallowed hard, "I couldn't . . . I wasn't the right person for you and you weren't right for me either."

Sheldon glanced down at the floor and she saw the turmoil written on his face. The stress of the years was evident in the lines on his face and the growing bald spot on his head.

"I know." He held her hands and their digits entwined between them, their hands both a wall and an anchor. "Until I knew what it was to be unhappy, I could never have given you what you deserved." He raised her hand to his lip and placed a gentle kiss there as he looked beseechingly into her eyes.

"I wish I could have gone about this some other way. I never meant to hurt you," Amy said.

"I know that too." Sheldon sighed, and she could hear the pain lingering in his tone. "And you hurt me. You hurt me bad. But I am glad that you moved on and found a man, a better man than me."

"Oh Sheldon," Amy said breathlessly. She threw her arms around his neck and he didn't recoil or tense. He simply reciprocated her hug.

His maturity astounded her. There was no way it could be faked.

Sheldon could have said something. He probably would have except her lips were tempting and having a reminder of her kisses, he wanted more. He was a man addicted, and she was the only way to temper him.

"Vixen," he murmured, his favorite pet name for her, although he always refused to put it into the relationship agreement and tried to get away with stupid nicknames for her instead.

Amy lost her ability to think as he kissed her once more, and she did not even notice as he led her through a well-traversed section of the house to the less frequented room off to the side just above the garage, more isolated from the rest of the house.

It was empty of all but the bare boned furniture essentials. The room was painted tan.

It looked more sparsely decorated than when she saw it last, but Sheldon's bedroom was unmistakable. His sanctuary. A place he never allowed girls into—and she was a girl.

But as he said himself, she was the exception to his every rule.

"Sheldon," she murmured, any interest in the decor lost as Sheldon kissed her once more, "This is your bedroom."

He looked at her with a long suffering sigh. "Don't be ridiculous. It's just a guest room. I don't live here anymore."

They kissed, lingering and repeatedly. There was no expectation for more, and neither did she want to speed up the pace. They were still getting to know each other again, after all.

She was crazy. She had to be. It was the only explanation. Sheldon was crazy too, regardless of any test Mary Cooper had him take.

Amy failed to hear the sound of the garage door opening below them or the loud thump of footsteps on the stairs, and thus she jumped at Penny's exclamation of "Leonard! She said yes!"

Amy whirled around to see her bestie standing in the doorway to the empty guest room, and any lingering resentment at Penny for luring her there on false pretenses fell away.

"You knew?" Amy asked incredulously. Once, Penny would not have been able to restrain herself from gossiping to Amy, especially when the news was that juicy. "You knew and you didn't tell me? Some best friend you are."

Amy let her face fall into a pout but her tone was teasing. She wasn't really mad at Penny. Honestly, all she needed was to see the smile on Penny's face and the blond beauty would instantly be forgiven of anything.

"Congratulations, Amy!" Leonard called from downstairs.

"I was worried Penny would give it away," Sheldon said.

Penny scoffed. "As if I would tell her after you threatened me."

Amy's phone began ringing, and, seeing that the picture on the screen was Bernadette, she answered straight away, putting her friend on speaker.

Rather than a greeting, Bernadette said, 'Leonard just texted Howard, who told me that you said yes. Congratulations, Amy!" Her voice was even more of a squeal than normal. Add to that the sheer rapidity of her words and Amy barely made out what she said.

"Thank you, Bernadette," Amy said, a soft smile on her face. "I can't believe you knew as well and didn't tell me." If the surprise wasn't so nice, she might have been mad at Bernadette as well, but the shorter, scarier one of her two friends was much better at keeping secrets than Penny.

Bernadette hung up not long after, and Penny excused herself downstairs with a suggestive lift of her eyebrows and a "I'll leave you two lovebirds be. My daughter gets home from daycare soon, so don't take too long in there," at which Sheldon turned to Amy in confusion and asked for an interpretation.

"Penny thinks we are going to have coitus," Amy said concisely.

Sheldon's eyebrows raised and Amy wondered if it was in surprise or horror. His mouth gaped open a little like a fish as he struggled to come up with a response.

"Not today and not here." She wasn't ready for that yet, and Amy could tell Sheldon wasn't either. "But I am curious, how exactly did you threaten Penny into not revealing your plans."

"Oh, that was simple," Sheldon waved it off as it was nothing, but to prevent Penny from gossiping, it had to be quite some blackmail. "I was cleaning her closet for her and found handcuffs. I asked what they were for—Penny has never showed an interest in law enforcement—but she wouldn't tell me. I said I would ask Leonard, but then she agreed not to tell you about my plans to propose if I didn't tell Leonard I found their box of toys from the dirty store, though I don't understand why Leonard would frequent an establishment that is unhygienic."

Amy rolled her eyes at Sheldon's cluelessness. "Yeah. You're a genius."


	73. Chapter 73

The next morning brought a dose of reality to Amy's love riddled thoughts. When she met Sheldon for dinner at the end of the day, it was easy for him to distract her from all marriage to him would entail, to temporarily forget the sheer amount of planning involved. He kissed her and she brought him to her house to continue their make out session in private. Though it did not go beyond heated kisses culminating in him finding second base—over her shirt; he was still Sheldon—and he caught an Uber home later that evening.

Without Sheldon around to quell her worries, they came back full force. She had an elaborate wedding once in her life where all the attention was on her and no expense was spared in frivolous decor, but for her second special day, she realized she was too tired to plan an elaborate ceremony and, if Sheldon was willing, she would be content with something smaller, only boasting family and a select group of close friends. Rather than find and set up an expensive venue, she could ask one of their friends to host it in their backyard. If Sheldon did not want to stand on ceremony, she would be perfectly content for something small and quiet.

They would move into her house. Whether Sheldon wanted to or not, they could not live in a two-bedroom apartment without a working elevator any longer. With two teenage children, it would only be a matter of time before they were bringing families of their own to visit and an apartment was not large enough. They would need the extra space her house provided and it was in a safe neighborhood.

Logistics could be sorted out later. However, one problem still remained: her children. If Cassie and Felix did not want her to marry Sheldon, she could not in good consciousness do so.

With her firm resolution in mind, the next morning she drove the familiar path to Los Robles, a place she had not been to in years yet remembered perfectly. The elevator no longer had the out of order sign, but when she pressed the button, it did not come. She took the stairs, surprised at how winded she became, a stark reminder that she was not as young as she used to be the last time she was there.

Sheldon, an early riser, promptly answered the door and seemed surprised to find her there. He might have been surprised but he ushered her into 4A anyways.

"This is a surprise," he said as he fixed her a cup of tea along with his, a new morning ritual he developed.

"I'm sorry. I would have called but there is something I wanted to talk to you about in person."

Sheldon checked the time, and though there was not much left before he would need to leave for work, he asked Amy to wait for a moment to go across the hall and inform his neighbor he would not need a ride to work. He did, however, still deliver her a coffee, knowing she depended upon the caffeine fix he brought her every morning. Obligation to his neighbor fulfilled, he returned to Amy waiting in his apartment.

"My lease will be up in two months. I suppose you would prefer to live in your house so I was thinking I should give up this place."

Oh boy. What she had to say to him would not be received well then.

"I think you should renew it," Amy said. Sheldon looked hurt, and she quickly said, "It's not that I don't want you to move in with me, because I do, but I think it's too early."

Sheldon nodded his head though she could tell he disagreed with her. "I see. You wish to have more time to become reacquainted with each other before we live together."

Amy bit her lip. While that was not one of her considerations, now that he brought it up she did agree with that sentiment as well. For all she still loved him, he was a different man and she barely knew him. He barely knew her. She was prepared to marry him, confident that even though they changed there was still enough of the original Sheldon and Amy to build a marriage upon, yet they were moving fast.

She understood how years apart hastened his movements and while she was not afraid, they did need time.

"Well, that too I suppose," she agreed, "But I told you before I need my children to approve of you. They'll be coming home for Christmas and if they agree, you can move in and we will get married sometime in the summer."

Sheldon's eyes turned stone cold and she knew it was a way to conceal the hurt. "And if they don't approve?" he asked, because he needed to know every contingency.

Amy twirled a strand of hair in her fingers and promptly dropped it. Looking him straight in the eyes, she said, "Then you will figure out how to get them to approve of you," she said firmly. Because she did not want to have to contemplate the alternative. Because if she had to make a choice, she knew Cassie and Felix came first and she would not make them uncomfortable.

"But if they don't?" His persistence was odd. The Sheldon she remembered could not fathom anyone disliking him and he would have taken their acceptance for granted without even meeting them. Here was further evidence that he was, at least to some degree, a different man than he was before.

"Then we'll wait until they're independent to get married," she stated firmly. She would not like to wait that long, but if it was necessary, then so be it.

"And how long would that be?" His questions were blunt but necessary, no matter how little Amy wanted to tell him the answers because that made the less desirable outcomes more real.

"A couple of years, maybe more. I don't know."

"Oh." Sheldon's shoulders sagged.

Uncertain how a hug or form of physical comfort would be received, she took a calming sip of her tea and satisfied herself with a verbal form of comfort.

"They're good children and once they see how much we love each other, I think they'll be alright with this. But they took the loss of their father hard and I don't want them to think I'm replacing Dave with you, because I'm not."

Sheldon nodded his head in defeat. "I'll renew my lease for another year then," he said.

Amy hoped he would not have to live in 4A much beyond Christmas but she did not want to shock her children too badly with having a strange man in their house when they returned home in four months for Christmas. It would be hard enough returning home to a house they didn't consider home in a place they only visited twice before. She did not want to force any more changes on them.

As the weeks passed, Amy intended to tell her children she was seeing someone, but each time they called her, she lost her courage. Instead, she listened to Cassie's research accomplishments—and all the while thought Sheldon would be a much better conversationalist than her on the topic as she only understood about 90% of what Cassie told her—and listened to Felix regale his performances and auditions, some that went more successfully that others. She was proud of him even if she understood very little about music.

While they hadn't complained the previous Christmas, she also sensed they weren't entirely at home either. In an effort to make their new visit easier, Amy stocked Cassie's room with physics books and, with the assistance of a former colleague from UCLA's music department, picked out a used upright piano for Felix to play when he returned home. Yet, the clock continued ticking, it's pace seemingly speeding up as she still did not tell her children she was seeing someone let alone that she was engaged.

By the end of November, it seemed almost too late to give them a warning since they would be returning home in two short weeks.

On their last date night before winter vacation, Amy told Sheldon that she did not want him to come over to her house anymore until she told her children about him. Sheldon frowned, saying she should have already told them and she angrily retorted that they were her children and she would tell them in her own time. He asked her in what time, after all the months she stalled. What assurance did he have she would not chicken out again?

To that Amy had no valid answer, only that she would prefer to tell her children in person. When Sheldon questioned her commitment to their relationship, Amy softened. He was worried about her backing out and she could not blame him for it. Her inability to tell her children about him did not reflect well on her and only played into his uncertainties about the upcoming meeting. Relenting slightly, she invited him for dinner two days after they arrived. That would give her just enough time to tell them about Sheldon before they were expected to meet him, and it gave Sheldon concrete evidence that she was, in fact, serious about their relationship.

The potential crisis averted, Amy invited Sheldon back to her house after the dinner, wanting to spend as much time as him as possible before she would be distracted with her children. She wanted them to come home, of course, but a part of her still could not get enough of Sheldon and matters were not helped by his work schedule coupled with the number of speeches he was obligated to give that frequently had him traveling across the country for a couple days at a time.

Over their months as an engaged couple, the intensity of their make out sessions increased as did the frequency with which they occurred. Still the farthest they progressed was down to their underwear. Amy, well versed in Sheldon's reluctance for physical intimacy, was able to remain patient with the knowledge that he embraced their physical intimacy. He became more comfortable the more they were together, and by desensitization sometimes it was even him, not her, that initiated. Sheldon even told her that he wanted to be more, but it would take time. He asked her permission to share their encounters with his therapist, and she agreed. Not long after, Amy noticed pronounced improvements in his ability to cope with their encounters until his nervous ticks disappeared entirely.

No amount of patience, however, could assuage a sexually frustrated woman. Having no boyfriends or even hookups since the death of her husband, her only form of physical satisfaction in the last couple of years came from herself and, after the healthy sex life she enjoyed with Dave, it was no longer enough. There was a certain intensity of pleasure she could not reach on her own but longed for.

While it might have been easier to let her frustrations simmer beneath the surface, Amy knew she should discuss the issue with Sheldon rather than allow resentment to build up.

Thus, she pulled away from their make out session and looked Sheldon straight in the eye. "I want you to spend the night," she said bluntly, and then in a strategic maneuver to preempt possible protests, added, "I have a change of clothes and all your toiletries. I'll drive us both to work tomorrow."

Sheldon cocked his head. "Define the parameters of the sleepover," he said instead.

This was the tricky part, Amy knew, where she had to voice her desires in a way that would not scare him off the plan entirely.

"I want you to make love to me," she said bluntly, never one to prevaricate.

She saw lust and desire and fear all rolled up in one expression. Retrieving a small folder from her desk, she handed it over to him.

Sheldon curiously scanned the contents.

"I know your aversion to germs," Amy said, "I got this test done a week ago. I wanted you to know I don't have any sexually transmitted diseases."

To her surprise, the fear still remained on his face though he relaxed a little. Looking over the test more intently, Sheldon found the results to be to his satisfaction.

"Thank you, Amy. As I have never been with a woman, I, too, am free of any sexually transmitted diseases." While his voice was straight and his presentation clear, Amy knew something was wrong.

Perhaps there was more of a stigma surrounding sex for woman, but Sheldon was feeling something as well.

"What's wrong?" she asked him bluntly.

"What if I'm not good enough?" Sheldon asked, not blinking once.

Amy kissed him to quiet his thoughts. "You will be."

"Did you and your _husband_ —" to his credit, Sheldon barely flinched "—frequently . . ."

"Yes," Amy said, "A couple of times a week except for when the twins were infants and . . . we weren't without our rough patches either." There was no point in lying to him and he deserved to know her history. It was her intent they have no secrets between them and while she did not want to cause him pain, being forthright would inevitably do so.

"Do you expect me to—"

"—Sheldon," Amy cut him off, "I don't expect anything of you. We can see how this goes, and if we're both comfortable, we can do it again."

"But a couple times a week," Sheldon repeated faintly. He looked a bit queasy at the thought and Amy had to resist the urge to giggle. He was long past the point of being considered a grown man as far as society and the law were concerned, but in some ways he was innocent as a child.

She suspected the cause of his disquiet, not from his words but from his body language and how well she knew him.

"You aren't in any kind of competition with Dave. You are different people and we have different relationships. We will do what is best for the two of us," she said.

However, it was clear to Amy her words were not enough to assuage Sheldon's fears entirely.

"What if I dislike coitus?" Sheldon asked.

Amy frowned. "I hope you don't, but if you do, we'll talk about it." Mentally, she added a _but only with very frequent kisses._

"But a couple times a week." She was tired of having her words quoted back to her with a mix of fear and dislike, and yet she also knew patience was the best course of action.

Mentally fortifying herself to avoid becoming angry and letting her frustration into her voice, a tactic that would do more harm than good, she said, "I've gone two years without coitus. All that matters to me is you."

"You won't be disappointed?" Sheldon asked.

Amy took a moment to think. Better to be slow in her response than speak from the heart and have to retract it later. They needed to settle matters fairly and honestly with no deception.

"A little," she reluctantly agreed, for though she knew there were more important parts of their relationship than sex, according to experts it was a healthy part of a relationship, "but not having you in my life would be a bigger disappointment."

Amy saw the moment Sheldon relaxed from the tiny, subtle cues.

"Very well. I agree to your sleepover provided you make oatmeal for breakfast. We will consider this an experiment."

"That I can manage," Amy agreed with a mischievous smirk. One kiss later, she and Sheldon headed for her bedroom.

Despite his anxiety about not being able to measure up to her late husband, Sheldon and Amy were both happy, only the former of whom being surprised, with the results of their experiment. And, even more to Sheldon's surprise, he enjoyed the act. His meticulous attention to detail outside the bedroom translated well inside, much to Amy's satisfaction, and Sheldon's male pride was flattered that he could both please her and keep her attentions all to himself, not that there was ever a chance of Amy's affection straying. Sheldon was more than prepared to keep her happy in the future.


	74. Chapter 74

AN: Sorry for my weeklong absence. I somehow decided it would be a fantastic decision to move into my new apartment while jet lagged and just off a sixteen hour flight. Then I got sick. Anyway, I'm better now.

Thanks to Jessica for the beta.

* * *

Sheldon somehow managed to talk her into going to the therapist with him. He told her that while he once needed to go in twice a week, now he only went in for sessions once a month or as needed. Seeing a therapist was unlike Sheldon, yet so was proposing to her out of the blue after years without contact or being okay to wait for her answer until her children met and approved of him.

If Sheldon and his therapist were able to work such wonders in him, the least she could do was go along with his request that she go see his psychologist with him. It was an important part of the new and improved Sheldon, and she was glad to be a part of it. She felt giddy that Sheldon wanted her to meet his therapist when even Leonard and Penny had not yet been given that honor. It showed her that he truly wanted to include her in his life in a way he hadn't before.

Amy parked the car and they walked in. Though Sheldon was now able to drive , thanks to her teaching, and willing if necessary, thanks to his therapist's help, he still chose to be the passenger if anyone else was around to drive. He still did not have his own car.

They waited in the front until it was time for them to go in. Sheldon confidently led the way and Amy followed behind, a bit surprised at how comfortable he seemed. Then again, after years of therapy, he should feel comfortable there. Amy waited outside the door as Sheldon went in and said she would be joining him, and when Sheldon popped his head back outside, she followed him in.

Amy froze in her tracks as she looked at the woman sitting on the couch, and though she was older, Amy recognized her. She did not know her well, but she knew her well enough.

"Molly?" Amy asked, just to be sure.

Molly's face scrunched up as she tried to remember her, and Amy felt the brief pause acutely. Sheldon looked between the two of them, trying to figure out what was going on.

"You two know each other," he stated.

"Amy. I can't believe you're _the_ Amy. You know, I was starting to doubt Violet when she told us you'd come back into our lives eventually but here you are."

"Violet?" Sheldon asked, still at a loss. "What does a color have to do with anything?"

Amy sat down on the couch when Molly invited her to, and Sheldon sat down beside her, his posture upright and alert, and the cogs in his brain spinning and trying to catch up.

"Sheldon, Molly and I met a long time ago. Violet is . . . was?" she directed at Molly, unsure whether the two women were still in touch.

"Is," Molly confirmed.

"Is a friend of hers."

"And for full disclosure, Amy also knows my wife, Sarah."

"Congratulations on getting married," Amy said sincerely. Maybe she should be on high alert. She was not proud of that time in her life when she briefly became involved with Violet, Sarah, and Molly. It was not like her, and while it was necessary in getting her to relax and figure out her priorities, as was accepting herself for who she was, she did not want that low point in her life to be widely known. She confessed everything to Penny and Bernadette but no one else, the shame was too strong.

But Molly knew. Molly knew all about that. Amy could be worried Sheldon would bolt when he learned what she got up to, but it was years ago, as distant from her current self as her adolescent self was then. People change. She changed. Sheldon could accept that. At least, she thought he could. Worrying about Sheldon's reaction wasn't fair to him either. The new Sheldon wouldn't disappear on her.

"Thank you," Molly said. "Violet told me your husband died."

"Yes. Two years ago now," Amy said.

Molly's face fell. "I'm so sorry. Are you doing alright?"

Amy smiled. "I'm better than alright. Sheldon and I are . . ." She meant to say engaged but that was not correct. They were engaged and then they weren't. Not since she told him she had to wait for her children to meet him and see if they were alright with her remarrying. That, or wait until Felix and Cassie no longer depended on her. Whichever event came first.

"We're back together," Amy settled on, figuring it was true. Of course, Sheldon would have already told his therapist and her words were unnecessary.

She blushed at that thought. Molly knew about hers and Sheldon's sex life.

Sheldon smiled gently at her and laced his fingers through hers. He gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling back.

Molly wrote some things down on her clipboard. "Now enough of that. Today is about the two of you. Sheldon, is there anything you would like to say?"

Sheldon swallowed and nodded his head yes, and from his weary expression Amy knew there was a lot he wanted to say but was reluctant to.

"Yes," he said, still looking at Molly, but then he turned his attention to Amy.

"I've told you some things, and there is still more I want to tell you but I don't know how. I thought coming here might help."

"I could always put some electrodes on that brain of yours and see what's going on in there myself," Amy joked.

"Another time. I've told you that I've been in therapy for a while. I haven't told you why."

From the way Molly sat forward on her chair Amy suspected she already knew the reason and was curious as to what Sheldon would say, but she was also a professional and was acting in that capacity rather than as an acquaintance from long ago.

He told her more than he had before, some of which took encouragement from Molly to confess. He went in chronological order. His eidetic memory meant he could recite his every thought and action, and it was in more detail than needed and sometimes became distracting, but she shifted through the mess of information.

What she heard shocked her. She knew Sheldon was different. He acted different. Bettert. What she did not know was that it was because of her. It was because he missed her. He did not want to remain the man who was not good enough for her, and for a long time he wallowed in their breakup, was devastated by her marriage, and threw himself into his work to forget. It won him the Nobel Prize.

On December 10th, he realized it was not the Nobel Prize he wanted all along. He wanted to be a better man and it was all because of her.

Amy was not sure whether to be touched or saddened. He decided to make those changes, and did make them, a long time before he knew he could ever have a second chance with her. It started while she was still married and oblivious to him.

He even confessed his attempt to find her in London the first time around and how he met Dave. It was a lot to take in, and by the end of the half hour, he was not even close to done. He and Molly talked alone for a short time while Amy waited outside. When Sheldon joined her in the car, he told her that they discussed that Sheldon could continue his story on his own, but if they really needed to they could schedule an appointment to finish.

"It's a lot to take in, Sheldon, and I'll listen to whatever you have to tell me."

"Good. Also, Molly wanted me to tell you that you are invited to join her, Sarah, and Violet at the Olive Garden at 7:00pm for dinner tonight to 'catch up'."

Amy drove them back home,unsure whether she wanted to go to dinner or not. In the end, she decided some resolution would be nice. A part of her was curious to see what happened to the girls, and dinner was innocuous enough. There was no harm in going, and though she had friends in Pasadena, she could use some more. They had helped her figure out some parts in her life. The least she could do was see them again.

She was the last person to arrive at the restaurant, but it did not make a difference as they were still waiting outside.

"Amy, I'm glad you decided to come," Violet said, hugging her.

"Hello, Violet. Hello, Sarah. Thank you for inviting me, Molly."

"It's not a problem. I knew they would be excited to see you again. It's been so long," Molly said.

"Yes. I always knew we would see you again, and here you are. You look good. Tell me your secret."

"No secret. Just a lot of walking," Amy said. "And how did you know about my children?"

Amy looked to Molly. She was unsure what Sheldon had or had not told her. Molly shrugged. "I didn't know."

"Psychic." Violet giggled at the disbelieving expression on Amy's face. "You never will believe me."

Amy shook her head. It was not an explanation, and one day she would figure out the secret behind Violet's trick.

Once they were seated at the table and had placed their order, Sarah looked across the table at Amy.

"So, Amy, tell me, is Sheldon the same ex boyfriend Sheldon?"

Amy might not have an eidetic memory like Sheldon but she vividly recalled their brief discussion of Sheldon at the bar all those years ago.

"Yes," she answered.

Sarah smirked. "The selfish and immature Sheldon? The one who _spanked_ you?" Amy choose the wrong time to take a sip of her water and she started choking on it at the dangerous lilt on the work spank. A profuse blush rose to her face as the waiter brought over the salad and breadsticks.

The concerned waiter asked if she was alright, and once she assured him she was, he left them to their appetizers.

"Yes. That one." Amy was still blushing.

"How did you two get back together?" Violet asked.

Amy turned to her. "You mean you don't already know?" she said.

"Psychic. Not omnipotent. There's a difference."

Amy rolled her eyes. She knew the definition of the word psychic. She simply did not believe people like that could exist. There was no evidence to support it.

"Tell them, Amy, they're dying to know," Molly said.

"Patient client confidentiality," Amy reminded her. "You can't say anything."

Molly laughed.

Amy did not know why she felt the need to open up to these virtual strangers, though she supposed Molly knew a lot about Sheldon now, perhaps even more than she did, at least when it came to the new and improved Sheldon 2.0.

Somehow, she found herself telling her story, the important parts of what happened in her life since she last saw them. They, in turn, told her about their lives. Molly and Sarah were married a few years previously. Violet was still free as a bird, using her gift to make just enough money and then taking ample time to herself. A part of Amy was jealous of Violet's adventures. Violet had recently returned from her three month long trek through Brazil, and once she had enough money again, was going to return to explore Bolivia and Argentina.

After dessert, it was time to part ways. "Amy, if you and Sheldon are comfortable, you should join us for dinner again sometime," Molly said as they walked towards their respective cars.

"I'll ask him, but I think he'll be amenable," Amy agreed. Molly said Sheldon had her number if Amy decided she wanted to meet up with them again. All she would need to do was make sure he was comfortable with her seeing his therapist socially, and if he was, she would be glad to have more friends in Pasadena.


	75. Chapter 75

Nothing could contain the joy Amy felt when it came time to pick Felix up from the airport, and after a hug that was not long enough for the former and much too lengthy for the latter, Amy drove Felix home, eager to see how he would receive the changes. During the drive she listened to Felix tell stories of Harvard. He loved his classes and the music, and while she did not understand his passion for it, she understood him to be very good at music performance. He was already landing some auditions, though he still lost more than he won, as was any classical musician's lot, and she did her best to encourage those aspirations so long as he did not come home with odd tattoos or piercings.

Felix spotted the newly tuned piano she purchased just for him and before she could even give him a tour of the house, the melodious tones of Bach filled the air. She recognized the mathematical tonality to the music, more inclined to express the pattern than enjoy the musicality, and Amy sat down at the couch to listen, realizing just how much she missed listening to her son play the piano in his absence. Shortly thereafter he pulled out his violin, and once he started on his primary instrument, Amy knew it would be awhile yet before his practice was over.

She made his favorite dinner to welcome him home, and it took the smell of the food to get him to set down his instrument and join her for dinner.

Cassie came home the next day, and Amy was just as excited to pick her up from the airport. Unlike Felix, Cassie did not mind her lengthy hug nearly as much, though she did feel some embarrassment being suffocated by her mother so Amy let her go as well.

Cassie lectured her on her physics research the entire drive home, a topic Amy understood quite a bit more than music.

She stood back while the twins were reunited. For siblings who had quite the ability to fight, they were also close, being the same age and often the only company the other had for the majority of their lives. Completely different people, Amy knew that their father would be proud of them were he still alive.

Cassie's arrival meant she had two days left with which to tell them about Sheldon, so after serving them chocolate cake specially made to butter them up, she sat them down on the couch for a talk.

"What's going on?" Cassie asked. Felix did not say anything but looked longingly towards his violin.

"I wanted to let you know that I'm seeing someone," she said. Frankness was one of her strengths and it was best to rip the bandaid off quickly so to speak.

Felix's attention quickly turned to her full force.

"We . . . we're engaged," she added, pulling her engagement ring out of her pocket and slipping it back onto her finger where it would be safe.

Neither Cassie nor Felix said anything for a full minute, both too stunned to come up with something.

"You're getting married," Felix said. She heard the distrust in his voice, and knew that not telling them about Sheldon was a bad idea.

"How long?" Cassie asked.

"We've been engaged four months." Amy saw the hurt her deception caused and felt guilty and her procrastination. She should have told them sooner. Ambushing them now was only making it more difficult.

"We're thinking about getting married in the summer. Once you two are on summer break."

"I don't want a new dad," Felix pouted, "You can't replace dad. YOU CAN'T!" By the end he was screaming and he ran from the room. Not that much later she heard the harsh discord of his fingers angrily crashing against the piano keys.

Amy looked pleadingly at Cassie who bore a less angry, though still uncertain, expression.

"Please just give him a chance," she said.

"What's his name?"

Amy knew Cassie would find out eventually, and she was unsure how she was going to take the news. She knew that like her father, Cassie harbored a great admiration bordering on obsession for Sheldon's work. Yet at the same time she was unsure whether Cassie's loyalty to her father would overcome her love of Sheldon, and even more uncertain whether her expectations would be dashed meeting her idol in the flesh. There could be nothing but disappointment there as childhood heroes rarely lived up to expectations.

"Sheldon Cooper."

Cassie looked stunned for a moment. Beyond stunned. "The Sheldon Cooper, BS MS ScD PhD? The Sheldon Cooper the physicist dad and I . . ."

"Yes," Amy quickly said, remembering from the note she found that Cassie knew about her previous relationship with Sheldon. She wondered if Felix knew, and which way would be better.

"You aren't trying to replace dad, right?" Cassie asked. Rather than being happy at the prospect of meeting her idol in the flesh, she was sad and rightly so. It was only logical for her to voice her brother's fears. Amy anticipated it.

"No one will every replace your dad. But I've been lonely and Sheldon and I reconnected. I love him and I would like you to meet him."

"Alright," Cassie agreed. Secure in the knowledge that her dad was not to be forgotten, she was left to her excitement about finally meeting her physics hero. "Do you think he will appreciate my work? Do you think he's read my papers? Oh it would be an honor if he has!" Cassie clapped her hands together as she envisioned what meeting Sheldon would be like.

Amy made a mental note to give some of Cassie's work to Sheldon to peruse prior to their meeting. She would also have to tell him to encourage Cassie, or at least not to put her down, because she did not want her daughter's hopes and dreams callously crushed as she knew Sheldon to be capable. He had reason to win Cassie's approval after all, and he was capable of being nice. His therapy helped him better hear his derisive comments for what they were. Hopefully with her warning he would temper them.

"Do you think Dr Cooper will give me a tour of Caltech?" Cassie asked starry eyes.

"I work at Caltech," Amy reminded her.

"Yes, but you're my mum. You're boring." Teenagers. She wouldn't be able to call them that for much longer.

"I think that can be arranged. And if not, Leonard, Howard, and Raj can give you a tour." She would ask Sheldon about the tour, but she needed to make sure he was capable of behaving first before she entrusted him with her daughter. The other guys, she knew for sure, would encourage Cassie. Sheldon was the loose cannon so to speak.

With her encouragement, she was sure Sheldon would take Cassie on a tour, an action that would go a long way to securing her support for their relationship.

"I'd prefer Dr Cooper give me a tour."

"Why don't you go brush up on your physics, then," Amy suggested, knowing full well Cassie was bright enough Sheldon would not have to suffer the vexation of the less intelligent.

Cassie eagerly agreed and left for her room.

During the course of the conversation the angry tones of the piano subsided to melancholy. She sat on the couch and watched her son play, his tense posture belaying his anger.

Once he finished the song, she applauded him. "I'm not going to replace your father," Amy said softly. "Even though he's gone I love him very much. No one can ever replace him."

"Then why are you marrying someone else?" Felix crossed his arms over his chest and Amy knew he would not be won over as easily as Cassie.

"Because sometimes I get lonely and Sheldon makes me not as lonely," she said.

"You are boring."

Amy chuckled. "Maybe I am boring. But I still love you."

"I don't want a new dad," Felix said.

Amy sat next to him on the piano bench. She briefly looked over the notes on the page before returning her focus to her son.

"Sheldon does not expect to be your dad. But he would like to meet you and I'd like you to meet him. I think you will like each other."

"I won't like him," Felix promised, and if it did not hurt her so much, she would have laughed at his conviction. As it was, she could not bring herself any amusement. The issue was too important for her to make light.

"Please don't judge him before you meet him. Please give him a chance for me," she said. She wanted Felix to like Sheldon. She really did. With the loss of his father, he did not have a male father figure in his life anymore and no matter Sheldon's faults, he could be good for Felix. Cassie too, but she suspected he could help Felix more.

"I don't want to give him a chance," Felix pouted.

He went through a lot more than most children his age. She did not begrudge him his anger, his feelings a natural reaction to the situation albeit less pleasant than Cassie's own eagerness.

"Please," Amy said, "For me."

She hugged Felix, and though he hugged her back tightly, he quickly struggled away from her.

"I won't!" Felix yelled, running for the safety of his bedroom. Left sitting alone on the piano bench, Amy sighed. It was going to be a long dinner indeed, though at least one of her children was on board with her engagement. She hoped that by working together they could turn Felix around.


	76. Chapter 76

Felix drove her to work that day so he and Cassie could have the car to avoid being trapped in the house all day. Amy went to Sheldon's office just before the end of the day. She stood in the open doorway for a minute, admiring his figure as he intently studied his whiteboards. She did not want to interrupt his work but she felt it best to talk to him before he came over that evening for dinner.

Lightly rapping on the open door four times to alert Sheldon to her presence, her breath caught just a little as he turned around and smiled once he saw her. He was a very handsome man, and after one last hurdle, he would be all hers.

"Hello," Sheldon said in a tone that indicated he did not know why she was there.

Closing the door behind her, Amy said, "I thought we should talk before you come over tonight."

Sheldon sighed. "Very well," he acquiesced though he would have preferred to continue his work.

"I told Cassie and Felix," she said softly, "Cassie's excited to meet you. She's read all your papers. Just like her father, really. She idolizes you."

As expected, Sheldon acknowledged the compliment with all the vanity he owned, which was in no short supply. His new humility seemed to only extend far enough to encompass her most of the time. "What about me isn't worthy of praise?" he asked. Amy knew it was rhetorical and ignored it completely.

"Well, you know the saying never meet your idol."

"No. But go on."

It was like pulling nails but Amy ignored it an steadily continued onwards.

"Sheldon, you can be . . . how do I put this? Insensitive and arrogant. Cassie is just starting out in physics and she idolizes you. She wants to show you her work. I know you don't always mean to, but if you put her down, she might . . . be hurt."

"But what if her work isn't good? If it isn't as good as mine?"

Amy wanted to bristle in defense of Cassie but knew all that would lead to was an argument and possibly Sheldon inadvertently hurting her daughter's confidence at dinner.

"Her work is good, but she's younger. Your work wasn't as good when you were an undergraduate, and don't argue with me—" Amy held up her hand to prevent further protests "—I've read your earlier publications. But if you find something lacking, help her fix it, don't insult her. And whatever you do, don't tell her what she's doing is worthless."

"But I don't—"

"—I'm talking," Amy interrupted. She knew Sheldon had an enormous capacity to be rude and unfeeling. She watched him put Howard down for years for his lack of PhD, and years later, regretted standing by and even helping him do it. Age and experience tempered her harsher personality, and while before she did not understand why she should not put down work that was inferior to hers, as a mother, she knew differently. Cassie needed to learn to deal with constructive criticism, and it would be very well for her to have a mentor in her chosen field, particularly such a successful mentor, but she would not let her be insulted. "I don't care if you think what she's doing is worthless or pointless. Don't say anything. Be silent if you have to. If you see a mistake, don't correct her. Help her see it. I won't see her hurt."

"Can I talk now?" Sheldon asked, moving closer to her and cupping her cheek with his hand. Amy wanted to pull away, knowing that if she stayed in contact with him she would not want to let go. His affection would sooth her, but it was best to prevent any later unpleasantness. She loved and wanted to marry the man before her, looking at her with adoration in his eyes, and yet she felt a war within herself needing to preemptively protect her children. They were old enough to be starting out in the world but they would never be so old her need to look out for them disappeared.

Amy nodded to let him know it was alright for him to speak.

"Amy, I'm not going to insult her and I'm not going to hurt her. I'm different now." While she heard him say that phrase time and again and had the evidence of his actions to support his claim, in her worry over the impending meeting she forgot it completely. Starting to feel a bit ashamed of herself for her tirade, she looked up at him. His face held nothing but warmth and affection.

Amy sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just nervous about tonight."

"I'm nervous too."

Amy looked up at Sheldon quizzically. It was unlike him to admit to nervousness about anything other than his fear of public speaking or birds. "You're nervous?" she repeated just to make sure.

Rather than berating her for asking a stupid question as she half expected him to do, Sheldon retreated to the other side of his desk and picked up a white board marker, playing with it without even seeming to notice.

"Of course I'm nervous. Marrying you is like marrying your children." Amy opted not to point out to him just how wrong that comment sounded, knowing he did not intend for it to be heard the way it came out. "I need their approval and I'm not good at making friends, ergo I am nervous."

"Then I should probably tell you Felix isn't happy."

"When were you going to tell me this?" Although she tried to prevaricate, Sheldon saw right through it. She never was good at lying. Perhaps some day she would learn from Penny, though after years of failing to do so it was only a distant possibility. "You just told them, didn't you."

Amy looked down at her feet for a second before meeting Sheldon's eyes. "I was going to tell them about you sooner, but then it seemed to late so I waited until they were both home yesterday to tell them."

"You shouldn't procrastinate," Sheldon scolded, and then he looked at her. Really looked at her. "That isn't important right now. Tell me about Felix," he said instead. He already heard a lot about her children, of course, and had a vague idea of their characters from her stories and pictures, yet he wanted to know more about the situation.

"He doesn't want you to replace his father. I tried telling him you aren't, but he was upset."

Sheldon nodded. Coming from a rather turbulent childhood home himself, he could understand the boy's pain to some degree, for although he did not particularly like or agree with his father's decisions and often times resented the way his father discouraged his school work, he still loved him.

"I understand. I assume I am not to tell him science is a more worthy endeavor than music."

Amy glared at him, and from the way Sheldon immediately backed down, she knew she did not have to voice a vocal confirmation, though she did anyways. "Correct," she said. She could try to defend Felix's life choices and explain his aptitude for music, but she did understand where Sheldon was coming from. It was not until she really listened to him play that she understood his interests were worthwhile, and at least he choose to play the violin rather than study geology. In time, she hoped Sheldon, too, would revise his viewpoint on the worthiness of fields other than the hard sciences.

"I'll be over at six," Sheldon confirmed. Amy nodded in agreement and said her farewell. Checking her watch, it was too late in the day to get any significant amount of work done before it would be time to leave and so decided she would catch an Uber and go home early for the day. She wanted to spend time with her children while they were home and with Christmas rapidly approaching no one would find anything amiss from her leaving a few minutes early.

She started the preparations for dinner, informing Cassie and Felix that Sheldon was coming over. Felix stormed to his room to fume about not wanting to meet her fiancé. Amy hoped Sheldon could charm him least they have to prolong their wedding. Cassie kept her occupied while she started dinner, incessantly asking questions about Sheldon. It became tiring so she sent Cassie upstairs to study for the upcoming visit. Her daughter was already smart enough she did not have to, but it gave her a convenient reprieve.

Luckily at a stopping point when she heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, she peeked out the blinds to see Sheldon stepping out of the passenger side of Leonard's car. She opened the door in time for Leonard to roll his eyes at her before leaving.

"Hey," she said to Sheldon.

"Hey," he repeated in the exact same tone as her, but his expression showed his confusion.

"I'm glad you're here," she said.

"I said I would be," he returned. "Still nervous?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yes."

Sheldon surprised Amy when he bent down to kiss her. She melted into the touch, glad for his presence and not wanting it to end. She sought the comfort he provided, and suspected the intimate touch comforted him as well.

"Let's go in," Sheldon said when he pulled away, and Amy led him into the house. He did not comment on the smell of the food, nor did he observe the house for any differences that would inevitably appear now there were two more inhabitants living in the house.

"Sit down. I'll go get them," Amy said, wanting to get the introductions over with sooner. However, Cassie's sudden appearance proved she need only summon one of her children at least. "Felix! Come out here!" she yelled loud enough for him to hear before turning to Cassie.

Not one for shyness, Cassie was uncharacteristically standing awkwardly in the living room while Sheldon seated himself at his preferred seat on the couch.

"Cassie, this is Sheldon. Sheldon, this is my daughter, Cassiopeia."

"Hello," Sheldon said. Amy watched the interaction with intent focus, knowing it would determine much of their future interactions.

"Dr Cooper," Cassie greeted him. Then, having said some words, seemed to find her courage. Bravely she stepped closer to him but then paused and looked to Amy for help.

Amy knew firsthand how hard it could be to find words in the presence of someone one admired and decided that a small intervention was needed to put the two more at ease.

"Cassie, didn't you have a question to ask Sheldon," she prompted.

Cassie looked at her and then Sheldon and inhaled deeply. "Would you give me a tour of Caltech? That is, mum could, but I'm not really interested in neuroscience. That is, I am, but I'm studying physics and was wondering if you could give me a tour of the physics department. I mean, would you please give me a tour?"

Sheldon looked at Amy first to see her gently nodding in encouragement. Amy watched as a brief look of indecision crossed his face, and whether it was a disinclination towards the teenager or to the tour she could not tell, but she was glad when he made up his mind in the affirmative. They decided Cassie would shadow him at his work the next day. She squealed her thanks, going so far as to throw her arms around him in a hug that he stiffly sat through without reciprocation, but to his credit he did not push her away or say anything about his discomfort. He suffered in silence and made no mention once it was over, something for which Amy was grateful.

The ice broken, Cassie began asking Sheldon about his research, and while Amy understood most of what they discussed, some parts remained a mystery to her. She watched the two of them talk, and while talking of work usually made Sheldon more inclined to laud his superiority over others, he managed to temper his harsher comments as per her suggestion, giving proof that he really had come a long ways.

The peaceful mood of the room was broken when Felix slouched in. Though she introduced them and Sheldon politely enquired after Felix's music—he played the violin and piano did he not?—and his favorite pieces, he was met only by sullen, monosyllabic answers.

"Don't be rude, Felix," Amy scolded, upset her son was behaving contrary to the manners she taught him and yet a part of her also wanted to be understanding. She knew meeting Sheldon would be hard for him and the meeting was important to all of them. She wanted it to go well. Cassie tried to help draw her twin out, and for perhaps the first time she failed at bringing out his good mood.

"Would you play something?" Sheldon asked, looking at the piano in the room. "I myself play the keyboard."

"No," Felix responded. Sheldon looked at Amy a bit helplessly. She shrugged, knowing that it would take time and effort for Felix to warm up to him, if it was even possible. She dearly hoped it was.

"I play a little on the keyboard," Sheldon said, moving over to sit at the piano bench. Unsure how to break the ice, Sheldon tried to bond as best he knew how, or at least as best he knew how when there was not physics or comic books involved.

He started out the first few measures to Für Elise, and was surprised as Felix abruptly pushed him aside, sitting down on the bench and forcing Sheldon to stand up.

"Felix, that was rude. Apologize to Sheldon," Amy said.

Felix frowned at Sheldon. "He was playing it wrong."

"I was not," Sheldon said, affronted, "I have an eidetic memory. I do not play songs 'wrong'." Sheldon added air quotes to his last word for extra emphasis.

"I don't care whether he was playing it wrong or not. That was rude of you and you're going to apologize."

"Sorry," Felix said tersely though it was clear he did not mean it. Rather than demand another insincere apology, however, Sheldon sent a look that told her to her to drop it. He was going to handle the problem on his own. Of his success Amy would not speculate, though if she were a betting woman she would assume his plan to fail, knowing how rarely he ever made friends.

"Show me how to play it correctly," Sheldon demanded instead, listening with rapt attention first as Felix adjusted the bench and then placed his fingers lightly over the keys.

Taking a breath to start, Felix began playing, his fingers lightly brushing the keys, allowing the music to swell, the rising and falling of waves.

Amy heard the difference, and though she was not about to admit it aloud, Felix was right. He did play the piece better than Sheldon, though as a music major, it was to be expected.

Between Sheldon and Amy it would be difficult to tell who of the two was surprised by the seamless transition into the second portion of the piece, and from the confused looks they exchanged, it was equally clear they had no notion the second half of the piece even existed, their knowledge of the song coming from it's common adaptation in popular culture.

Once finished, Felix took a deep breath and stood up. The spot left open again, Sheldon sat down. Amy was surprised to hear the difference in his second attempt at the song, and while it still did not compare in quality to Felix's rendition, she heard the increased amount of soul in the music. Sheldon's fingers faltered once he reached the end of the familiar portion of the piece, for though his memory meant he remembered exactly how the second half of the piece was to go and the notes he needed to play, forcing his fingers to comply with his brain was a much greater task and one to which his keyboard abilities were not equal.

Unwilling to admit defeat, Sheldon botched the rest of the piece. Amy repressed a laugh at the horrified expression on Felix's face, no doubt caused by the bad music, but her amusement was not just at the expression but also at the relaxation of atmosphere in the room. Perhaps they were not getting along quite yet but Felix was no longer hostile.

Once Sheldon finished, he even admitted that Felix was the better man and offered up his spot at the piano. Felix took it, starting into a second piece. Amy watched Sheldon intently. She saw as he flinched at some of the disharmonious chords, though he said nothing.

It was the twitch in his eye that betrayed him, but rather than create a breach in an already untenable situation, he choose instead to resume his spot on the couch and listen in silence.

Amy took the seat beside him and engaged him and Cassie in conversation. To his credit, Sheldon revealed none of his discomfort, and twenty minutes later once Felix was done playing, he spoke nothing of the music, a feat which Amy knew took a considerable amount of effort.

The timer on the oven alerted her dinner was ready, and having already set the table she ushered them into the kitchen. Sheldon's face lit up when he saw she made spaghetti with hot dogs cut up in it, a classic dish which Cassie and Felix also enjoyed.

By the time they finished eating, Amy almost hoped the night would resolve without any direct conflict but her wishes were not to be granted.

Cassie left to retrieve some of her research from her room to show to Sheldon, and without his twin's stabilizing influence and Amy occupied cleaning up dinner in the kitchen and thus not around to intervene, Sheldon and Felix were left together.

Amy heard the yelling and quickly dried her hands to find out what the fuss was about.

"Felix," she said when she came into the room. Sheldon was standing tall, clearly angry, yet it was Felix doing the yelling and pointing.

"No, you can't marry him. I won't let you replace dad," he yelled at her.

"Felix," Amy said again but it was for nothing. Felix was already out of the room. Coming to stand beside Sheldon, he appeared shaken up.

"What happened?" she asked with concern.

Amy listened as Sheldon explained the way he tried to engage Felix in conversation and ended up enraging the boy instead. While Amy knew Felix was inclined to dislike Sheldon, she also knew there was a second side to the story, for no matter how much Sheldon tried to portray himself as completely innocent in the interaction, she knew he, too must hold some of the culpability.

"I need to go talk to Felix. Make yourself comfortable. Maybe you should have Leonard come and pick you up?" she asked. She planned to drive him home herself but now with Felix upset she was uncertain whether she would be leaving the house anytime soon.

She made her way to the bedrooms but Cassie intercepted her path. "How much of that did you hear?" Amy asked when Cassie appeared visibly upset.

"I don't want them to fight," Cassie said, "I like Sheldon."

Amy let out a breath. She knew they were getting along but it helped for Cassie to confirm it aloud.

"I'm glad," Amy said. "But I know this must be hard on you and your brother. Don't blame him too much. Why don't you go entertain Sheldon while I talk to him?"

Cassie bounced over to the living room, notebook in tow, while Amy went in search of Felix.

"Can I come in?" she asked, waiting for permission to enter.

It was reluctantly granted and she sat on the side of the bed, looking at Felix curled up in a ball. His face was wet and his eyes were red, evidence to his crying.

"What happened in there?" she asked him.

"What's the point? He's already poisoned you against me," Felix said.

Amy stroked her hand through his hair. "Sheldon only told me what happened. Why don't you do the same so we can find out what's wrong."

"Doesn't matter. He's not dad," Felix grumbled.

"I know he isn't your dad, but why won't you give him a chance?" Amy asked.

They sat in silence for over five minutes according to the clock on his nightstand. When he still did not say anything, she said, "Sheldon just wants to get to know you a little. Can you please try to be nice to him for me? Please?"

She was not above begging if that was what it would take to earn his compliance.

Felix shrugged.

"Use your words," she said.

"Fine. I could be nice to him but I won't."

"That's not acceptable," she said, trying hard to keep from raising her voice. From what Sheldon said and the way Felix was acting, she suspected her son deserved a greater portion of the blame for the turmoil.

"What does it matter?"

"This isn't just about your dad, is it?" Amy intuited. From the way Felix stiffened, she knew she hit the problem straight on the nose. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you? Why don't you like Sheldon when you don't even know him?"

"Because you're going to marry him and then you'll replace me and I don't want to be replaced. I want dad back."

"Dad can't come back, sweetheart, you know that," Amy soothed, rubbing his back at a paltry attempt to comfort him. "And we would never replace you."

"But you will. You'll marry him and forget all about me."

"That isn't going to happen," Amy protested, "I love you. I'll never forget about you. I'm proud of you."

"But it is," Felix protested. "Cassie likes physics so she'll still be a part of your family but not me. I'm different. I'm not a scientist. Everyone will forget about me."

"We won't forget about you. None of us may understand music the way you do, but I like listening to you play. No one could ever replace you."

Felix looked up at her warily, and Amy knew that there was still a lot of progress to be made but it would not happen that night.

After talking him down, she returned to the living room to find Leonard sitting inside. Apparently Sheldon insisted they could not leave until he had time to say goodbye to her, a gesture for which Amy was grateful, and he also refused to interrupt her. In the time she was talking to Felix he finished the dishes with Leonard's help, and was currently looking over the notebook with Cassie. Amy decided that with Leonard keen on leaving, with or without Sheldon if he procrastinated much longer, she needed to hurry him out the door least she have to drive him home. She was not opposed to driving him, but she was tired from the day and wanted to rest.

Somewhere in all the chaos she had to decorate the house for Christmas. Unsure whether she would be able to muster the enthusiasm, she needed as much time as possible to rest.

Once Sheldon and Leonard were gone, Cassie turned towards her. "He makes you happy," she observed.

Amy smiled, thinking back to how nice it was having Sheldon in her life the last couple of months. "He does," she agreed.

"I'm glad you're marrying him. I think dad would be happy too."

That statement had Amy a bit confused. Though she loved Sheldon and was free to move on with her life, a small part of her still felt some guilt at betraying her husband's memory by finding another. "How so?" she asked.

"Dad would want you to be happy. Sheldon makes you happy."

Whether it was true or not, Amy would never know. However, the words gave her some small measure of comfort.

"And I want to be your maid of honor," Cassie said.

"Penny will be disappointed when she is only a bridesmaid," Amy quipped, already knowing she would have no other but Cassie for her maid of honor when the wedding eventually took place.

Cassie shrugged off the comment. "Penny can be disappointed. I'm your favorite girl," she said confidently.

That garnered a laugh from Amy. "That you are," she agreed.


	77. Chapter 77

When Amy went to pick Cassie and Sheldon up for lunch, she was surprised to find the two of them staring at equations written on the whiteboards in total silence. Sheldon rested his chin in his hand while Cassie's fingers opened and closed the cap to the white board marker. Though two very different postures, she easily recognized their thinking faces.

"Mind if I interrupt," she said as she leaned against the opened doorframe.

Sheldon and Cassie both ignored her. Moving towards the whiteboard, she tried to see what they were staring at. She followed the steps to their equation, and though she did not know what it was they were trying to accomplish, she grabbed the whiteboard marker from Cassie and made a slight adjustment to the board.

"There," she said, "now we can get lunch."

"Mum, you aren't supposed to touch the whiteboards. You don't know what you're doing."

Heaven forbid she leave Cassie with Sheldon for a handful of hours and already her daughter was inclined to mimic his sense of superiority.

"Amy," Sheldon protested as well.

Amy shrugged unapologetic. "But it's obvious you dropped a negative," she said, shaking her head. "If you're going to use Feynman's trick for integration, you should at least take the derivative of cosine correctly."

"I'm a theoretical physicist. I didn't drop the . . ." Sheldon started. "Oh."

Sheldon stopped talking as he and Cassie simultaneously saw the error she corrected. Cassie's face lit up as she finished the problem and boxed the answer.

"Can we go to lunch now?" Amy asked. She could have gloated over them but that would not accomplish anything.

"How is your tour going?" Amy asked Cassie, eager to hear if her daughter liked Caltech.

"Good. Sheldon showed me around the department and then we started working. I want to come back every day during break."

Amy smiled. "Just don't work too hard. You're on break and should take some time off."

She knew Cassie would protest. "But mum, I want to help Sheldon."

"I don't need help," Sheldon automatically protested but he quieted when Amy leveled a glare at him. "But it is appreciated," he amended.

"Even so, you should spend some time with your brother," she reminded Cassie.

"But mum."

"Take a break."

Their meal did not progress far before the boys joined them at the table.

When she came to pick up Cassie at the end of the day, the two physicists whined simultaneously. On the drive home, Cassie could not stop talking about Sheldon. Her idol more than lived up to her expectations. At least Amy knew one of her children was on board with her relationship with Sheldon.

Guilty for leaving Felix at the house all day by himself, Amy declined Cassie's request to go back to Caltech the next day. A day of vacation would not kill her by any means and she should keep her brother happy. Cassie pouted at the unfairness of it all and Amy only rolled her eyes. Teenagers.

Cassie's great day with Sheldon only served to make Felix jealous. "Traitor," he said to Cassie over dinner as she spoke unendingly in praise of Sheldon, reminding Amy so much of her late husband she almost thought Cassie was Dave reincarnated. Almost. But she knew better.

"No I'm not. He's really smart. You should try talking to him," Cassie said.

"Fine," Felix agreed to Amy's surprise. But then again, Cassie had a more stabilizing influence over her twin brother than she ever did.

Amy invited Sheldon over for dinner again the next night. Cassie was excited and Felix less so, but after his promise to his sister to give Sheldon a second chance, Amy commended him for trying.

Not more than a few words into their conversation, the two men fell silent and Amy could feel the tension rising. "Felix, why don't you tell Sheldon about your comic book collection," she said, searching for a topic they would both find of interest to discuss. They did not have science or anything else in common as far as she knew.

"I don't read comic books any more. Comic books are for kids."

Ah. The teenage coolness factor. She read about that a fair amount in her parenting books but with three semesters away, Felix appeared to be falling into the trap of trendiness.

Sheldon, unable to take an affront to one of his favorite hobbies, said, "Comic books are for everyone."

His attempt to be neutral was not well received. "No they're not. They're for children and losers."

"Apologize," Amy told Felix but he refused to listen. Sheldon looked hurt and unsure what to do and Cassie for her part sat frozen in place.

"I won't," Felix retorted. "Why is no one else upset that you want to replace dad?"

"Felix, I'm not . . ." Amy started to say but that was all she got through before Felix abruptly stormed out of the room. "I'm sorry for that," Amy said to Sheldon. "He's not normally like this. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"He's jealous," Cassie said abruptly.

Amy and Sheldon both looked at her. "It's obvious," the younger girl defended her statement, "He's jealous that you prefer Sheldon to him."

"That isn't true," Amy said straight away, but Cassie just shrugged.

"Excuse me," Amy said and followed after Felix. As before she found him on his bed, but instead of reading there were tears in his eyes.

"Would you like to tell me what's wrong?" she said gently, afraid to do anything but tiptoe around him.

"No," Felix sniffed and attempted to rub the tears out of his eyes. They just came back and Amy pretended not to notice as she sat down beside him and just waited. Patience was her friend and her silence was rewarded.

"I want dad back," Felix said.

"I miss him too," Amy said.

"It isn't fair that he's gone."

"No. It isn't." Amy agreed. Oh how she knew just how unfair it was that he was gone, yet in a way she could not bemoan the events as they occurred. She lost her husband but it brought her back together with Sheldon.

"I want to talk to dad but I can't," Felix said. He fell silent and Amy pondered what he meant. Of their family, he recovered from his grief the quickest, but as she knew from experience, grief and sadness struck unexpectedly, and not at the times one would expect.

"Whatever is bothering you you can tell me," Amy said.

"No I can't. You're my mum. You wouldn't understand."

"I'm a pretty smart mom. Try me," Amy said.

Felix looked at her and then down at his pillow. "Please go away," he said and Amy complied, wondering what she should do.

She made her way back downstairs to find Sheldon and Cassie once more discussing physics.

"Sheldon, would you go talk to him?" she asked.

Sheldon startled at her sudden entrance. Cassie shot her a sideways glance enquiring if everything was alright. It wasn't but she hoped it soon would be.

"I don't think he'd want me to . . ."

"Trust me on this," Amy said. If her suspicions were correct, Sheldon could be of more help than he thought. If they were to move forward as a pair, he would have to learn how to interact with her children, and while it came easily to him with Cassie, with her son he would have to try harder. No better time than the present.

Amy waited with Cassie as Sheldon left the living room. Once he was out of earshot, Cassie said, "He didn't need directions."

Amy blushed at her observation. "He's been here before," she said. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Her fiancé knew his way around her house. It was not surprising.

"I want to know what they're saying," Cassie said abruptly and followed after Sheldon.

Amy caught up to Cassie lurking just outside Felix's bedroom. She tried to pry her away, knowing better than to eavesdrop, but her curiosity got the best of her.

" . . . go away. I don't want to talk to you."

"Amy seems to think I can help," Sheldon said, "I don't believe her, but I'm obligated to try."

"Well, you can go tell mum you tried and failed."

"You don't like me," Sheldon stated.

Amy knew she and Cassie should leave but she was hooked. She stayed put, keeping her breathing quiet so she could hear the conversation.

"My dad died when I was fourteen," Sheldon said when Felix failed to say anything.

"I don't care," Felix grumbled.

"I know it hurts," Sheldon said, "And I missed him. Mostly I missed not having someone I could confide in anymore. Mom's aren't much help sometimes."

"No they're not," Felix agreed.

Amy bristled a bit at the comment. She tried the best she could. It was not her fault she could not be Dave as well as Amy.

"I'm not going to replace your dad, but if you want to talk about something, maybe I can help?"

Sheldon waited but Felix never said anything. He waited for about two minutes in silence until he said, "Alright. I'll go tell Amy I failed."

Amy heard the sound of footsteps and she and Cassie were prepared to flee when they heard Felix say, "Wait." The sound of footsteps ceased.

"There's something I need to tell mum but I'm scared," Felix said. "But you have to promise you won't tell her."

Amy looked questioningly at Cassie who only shrugged. It was the first she knew of anything.

"Alright," Sheldon said. The sound of footsteps resumed and someone—presumably Sheldon—closed the door. Amy and Cassie could no longer make out what was being said. Bored standing there with nothing to do, Cassie left. Amy could not force herself to move, yet no matter how much she strained her hearing the most she could make out was muffled too badly to understand.

Eventually, the door opened and Sheldon came out of the room. He did not appear the least bit surprised to see her standing there and he held out his hand. She took it and he squeezed it reassuringly. He led her to her bedroom and once they were alone, he let go of her hand and said, "I think Felix and I are alright now."

"What did you talk about?"

"Oh, just about some stuff."

"Well," Amy prompted Sheldon. "We both know you could recite that conversation to me so what did the two of you talk about?"

"I can't tell you," Sheldon said, "I promised Felix."

"It's not anything bad, right?" Amy said, just to be sure.

Sheldon shook his head no. "Of course not," he said, "If it were, I would tell you. We just talked about this thing. He's worried about how you'll react." Sheldon smirked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Amy enquired, surprised at Sheldon's evasion.

"Talk to Felix," he said.

"That's all you're going to tell me," she said, dying to know more. To her surprise, Sheldon was insistently clothed mouthed and despite her attempts to get him to speak he did not comply.

"That's all."

"Since when did you learn how to keep secrets?" Amy asked wryly. A bit of prodding was usually all it took to get Sheldon to spill.

"Since it became necessary." Amy decided to let the subject drop.

Though Felix and Sheldon were not on friendly terms yet, Felix no longer insulted Sheldon and Sheldon kept attempting to befriend him. Throughout the course of the next two weeks, Felix became more friendly towards Sheldon.

On Christmas Eve, Felix sought her out alone.

"Mum, I've been thinking about something."

"Umm hum," Amy mumbled.

"Sheldon . . . he . . . he makes you happy right?"

"He does," Amy agreed.

"Then I think you should marry him."

Amy was stunned. With his initial reaction, she expected it would take a lot longer before he was comfortable with her and Sheldon.

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Yes," Felix said, "As long as he doesn't replace dad."

"He won't," Amy said, her heart full of affection. She talked to Felix a bit longer, but the minute it was over she Skyped Sheldon.

"Amy? Are you crying?" Sheldon asked fearfully. Mobilized, she watched as he picked up his keys. "I'm coming over. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing bad," Amy said, "These are happy tears. We're getting married."

She expected Sheldon to be as happy as her but he stilled. "Yes. I know," he said, not understanding the significance of what she told him.

"No. We're getting married," Amy emphasized, "Felix is . . . he agreed."

"Amy," Sheldon breathed out, his face transformed by emotion. "That's wonderful. I'm still coming over now," he said.

"Alright. See you soon," Amy agreed.

They went to Bernadette and Howard's house on Christmas day. Leonard, Penny, and their baby was there, as well as Raj and Stuart. Amy half suspected the last two guests were all but a couple and would spend the lonely later days of their lives together but she kept that part to herself.

Halley quickly stole away Cassie and Felix, claiming she no longer wanted to be stuck with the boring adults and eager to exchange stories about their respective universities.

"Sheldon and I are getting married," Amy blurted out, no longer able to keep quiet.

"So Felix is alright with it?" Penny asked. Amy had kept both her and Bernadette updated on recent events, which meant all the guys knew.

"He is now," Amy said.


	78. Chapter 78

Amy was finally given the opportunity to learn what Felix and Sheldon talked about a week later. Cassie and Halley were out shopping and Felix, completely uninterested in their doings, decided to stay back and practice his instruments instead.

She sat on the couch and listened. She used to hear him practice daily, but now that she would only have him around for a month, the music was all the more precious. The notes were not flawless, but he played far better than her. Through the notes her son was able to harvest an emotionally that her technically proficient playing lacked.

Finally, his fingers came to a rest on the keys, the crescendo at the end of the Beethoven concerto. The full pice had taken him upwards of twenty minutes, but during that time she felt almost as if she were at a concert.

"That was beautiful," she said when his hands fell to his lap.

Felix swiveled on the bench to face her, face belaying his surprise that she was even in the room. He tended to loose track of his surrounding while he played and she was glad to see some of his habits hadn't changed.

"Thanks. I . . . there's something I want to tell you, and I need you not to get mad at me."

She swallowed hard. He twiddled his fingers and she couldn't help but notice he waited for a time when the two of them were alone in the house to bring the subject up.

But what he could have done that would cause her to get mad she could not speculate.

"You can tell me anything. I promise I won't get mad."

Sheldon thought it wasn't bad enough to break Felix's confidence and tell her. She had to trust the both of them.

"You know how I love my music." He wasn't changing majors was he? While there were better schools he could have gone to for a music program, she was proud that he was at her alma mater.

"I do. I love your music too."

He was skilled. She had to give him that.

"I've been talking to Sarah a lot lately."

Sarah. That was a name she hadn't heard in a long while.

"How's she doing?"

Felix wasn't going to transfer universities and loose his partial tuition scholarship to Harvard was he? While she understood the value of friendship, he couldn't move back to England for a friend. She started wracking her mind as to how to pay for that.

"Good. Anyways, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, for the last year really, that I like Harvard but—"

He reminded her of Dave as he rambled on and briefly she smiled at the fond memory. Then she heard the but and she knew the part she wouldn't like was coming.

"—it's holding me back. I'm dropping out."

She froze, glad she was already sitting down, and Felix stared back at her, a deer in the headlights.

"But . . . but you said you liked Harvard."

She couldn't fathom not having her advanced degree. She couldn't even imagine not having a bachelors degree. Education was important to both her and Dave, and since she found out she was pregnant they agreed that their children would be put on the track to university and advanced degrees of their own.

It was what people did in their family.

"I do like Harvard, but I don't get enough time to perform and the structure is stifling my creativity."

"You're dropping out to become a musician?"

Try though she might she could not conceal the hysterical edge to her voice. No. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be throwing his life away for a passing fancy.

For years she watched Penny struggle and fail to find an acting job. Entertainment wasn't an easy industry to break into. The uncertainty. The failure. The financial instability. She couldn't sit back and watch him screw his life up.

Felix started shutting down on her. She could see it in the way his straight posture hunched over. He was afraid. Embarrassed. Ashamed.

Determined. He wouldn't back down.

The way he was looking at her, she couldn't stand it. She wasn't her mother.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. She promised not to be mad at him and she wasn't. Nor was she disappointed, but she was worried. For his future and for his ability to cope with the outcome of his decision. Amy worried that someday he would regret dropping out and not getting an education.

"What do you plan to do instead?"

If he wasn't going to follow the path she and Dave laid out for him, she would ensure he had a path laid out. She wasn't going to watch him float helplessly. That would be unbearable.

"Sarah and I want to travel, and we want to play music. We're going to Australia."

What? Where was all this coming from? How had she failed to be completely blindsided by him?

Rational. She was a highly rational woman, except when it came to her worry over her children. Think. Plan. She was a scientist. Those were the qualities that made her excel as a scientist.

"How do you plan to pay for this?"

While she would support him, if he made this decision, he would have to do it on his own. She'd help out with his living expenses during uni, but she wasn't going to pay for him to recklessly travel.

"We did a lot of research. We're going to find gigs along the way, and we both applied for working holiday visas. If we need to, we can find jobs in bars or hostels, but we're going to try to make it as musicians."

It was a lot to spring on her at once, but it wasn't the first challenge she faced.

"It's what I want to do, mum. I'm not like you. I'm not a scientist. I'm good at school and I enjoy it but it's also grating. I . . . I need to do this."

She took another deep breath to steady herself.

"Why don't you start over and tell me everything you've planned."

And he did. He outlined all the money he and Sarah had saved up—they'd been planning this ever since sixth form—and it was more than she would have expected. Without telling her, he'd been tutoring and teaching music lessons ever since he started at Harvard. He'd gotten a few gigs here and there, nothing that paid more than tips, but he saved up every cent. Sarah had as well.

They had enough to travel on for a year. He'd applied for his visa and bought the plane ticket all on his own.

And, as she listened to him explain his plan, she did have to admit he'd done his research, and he wasn't dropping out of Harvard lightly.

"But why Australia? Why not here or London?" Because in either of those places, he and Sarah would have someone to fall back on.

She didn't know anyone in Australia. If something happened to him, she wouldn't know and if she did she would have no way to help.

"Sarah really wanted to go to a warm climate, and I wanted to go somewhere new." He squared his shoulders, despite his uncertainty that despite the fact that she had not yet given any indication of approval. "This is what I'm going to do," he announced.

Her son wasn't a child anymore. She knew that, and legally he was of age, but this change was visceral. How much of his life had she missed in the last year and a half that his sudden determination to do what he wanted rather than what was expected of him surprised her?

"You're really going to do this?"

"I am."

"Nothing I can say will change your mind."

"I'm going."

They looked at each other. She was still worried for him, and briefly wished he was still long enough she could stop him.

Felix knew what he was getting himself into. There was never a point in her life when she would have been brave enough to face the uncertainty that he was going to, but for all of herself that she saw in him, he was also different from her. He had a risk tolerance and a certain creative streak that she did not possess.

"Then I can't wait to hear about it."

She saw the way Felix perked up and she knew she had said something right.

"You approve?" Despite the fierceness with which he asserted himself, he still sought out her approval.

"It'll take me some time to be happy about it, but yes. I approve."

An odd sensation she had not anticipated filled her then. Pride. She'd felt it about twins's accomplishments before, but this time was different. It was pride that he was standing on his own two feet.

"Thanks mum."

Abruptly he sprung up and hugged her, and she wrapped her arms around him in return. "My baby is growing up."

"Eww, mum, I'm not a baby." Felix sounded a bit disgusted.

"You'll always be my baby."

"Stop being all sentimental."

That night at dinner, Cassie said abruptly, "So Felix told you."

Felix glared at Cassie with a look that said shut up. Cassie shrugged. "What? You think I couldn't tell. Mum's all tense."

Cassie knew. Sheldon knew. She was the last to find out.

"He did," Amy acknowledged.

"If I wanted to drop out of—"

"—Don't you dare," Amy cut her off. She made an exception for Felix, but that would not be the right move for her daughter.

"Oh, there's one more thing I need to tell you," Felix said seriously.

Her poor heart couldn't take any more news from them.

"What?" She tried not to sound faint.

"Sarah's having my baby."

Baby. Oh God. And to think she'd only recently purged all the toys and games. Baby stuff. Forget Australia the kids were crazy. They'd need a place to live, money, and she'd have to add Felix to her health insurance. Then there was the crib and the car seats and everything else she'd have to buy. She couldn't let him drop out of Harvard now . . .

Felix and Cassie abruptly descended into a fit of giggles and then Amy knew she'd been had. "That's not funny!" Her panic was gone and now she was just angry at the way they both played her. And how easily she'd fallen for it.

"You should have seen your face, mum. You looked like you were going to faint," Cassie said.

Felix was laughing too hard to say anything.

"I'm going to get my PhD. No way am I dropping out," Cassie said.

Still it wasn't funny to toy with her like that.

"And Sarah and I certainly aren't going to have a baby. Ick. Then there'd be crying and diapers and my life would be over."

However she had survived the twins antics she did not know. They seemed determined to send her to an early grave. No matter how many times they made her heart clench in worry, when it came time to drop them off at LAX, she hugged them both tightly and told Felix especially to stay safe.

She drove back home where Sheldon was waiting for her to get back.

"I miss them already," Amy commented. Though it looked no different, her house felt barren.

"It's only been two hours," Sheldon commented, not even bothering to look up from his comic book.

"I guess," Amy sighed and sat down next to him. "It's not fair that break is only four weeks."

Sheldon set his comic book down and looked at her. "You know, if you're that lonely I can move in here," he commented.

Amy blinked in surprise. Sheldon wanted to move in with her. No forcing and no coercion. "Are you sure we're ready to take that step?" she asked, her heart beating quickly. She knew better than to give him the opportunity to rescind his offer.

"Amy," Sheldon said with that eye roll that let her know he was exasperated, "I don't think I will ever be ready. Nevertheless, I know what I want."

"I want you to move in too," Amy said. To think people said Sheldon wasn't capable of being romantic.

"Good. But if my mom asks, we didn't move in together until after we're married."

"Live together. Whose been living together?" Amy asked.

"We are. Keep up, little lady," Sheldon said, not understanding her joke.

Now it was Amy's turn to be exasperated at his inability to recognize sarcasm, but she understood.

"Speaking of your mother, when are we going to tell her?" Amy asked.

"We could take a three day weekend and go to Texas," Sheldon suggested.

Amy's breath momentarily caught. Sheldon never invited her to Texas in all the years they dated. Now, he was inviting him to his home and his sanctuary.

"I'd like that," Amy said. Though she was eager for the trip, she was also nervous. She knew Mary Cooper once disapproved of her, but over time she thought she gained her approval. Now, Amy was not so sure what her reception into his family would be. She hurt him badly and would not blame them for disliking her, yet she wanted their approval all the same. "Do you think they'll like me?" Amy asked.

"Who will like you?"

"Your family."

"Amy," Sheldon said and held onto her hand. Amy relaxed into the comfort it brought though she still felt on edge. "I don't know if my family will like you. But it doesn't matter whether they like you or not. You're the one I care the most about."

That was a large admission, especially for him. "That's not fair to you," Amy said. She worried about coming between Sheldon and his family. Though he was very different from them, she also knew they meant a great deal to him. "But I'd like to meet them," she agreed.

"Good," Sheldon said

The guys helped Sheldon move his belongings into her house. She had plenty of room to spare, and though she cleared out half of her closet to make room for him, Sheldon barely took up any space. When it came to clothes, he owned only what he had need to wear. Aside from a few costumes she insisted he store elsewhere, he had little than needed to be hung in the closet.

"We should go celebrate," she commented once everything of his was unpacked.

"Celebrate what?" Sheldon asked, clueless as ever.

"Us moving in together," she explained patiently. Patience went a long way when it came to Sheldon.

"I suppose," Sheldon agreed. "Or maybe we could stay here and celebrate?"

Was she hallucinating or was that a coy and flirtatious wink he sent her?

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"It's Thursday. Thursday is pizza night," Sheldon explained. Of course it was.

"And after pizza?" Amy suggested, hoping he meant what she hoped she thought he meant. That was not confusing at all.

"We could watch _Star Wars_."

"Or maybe we could skip watching a movie and do something else," Amy said suggestively.

"Like a game? We can play counterfactuals." Sheldon's childlike eagerness was both cute and exhausting.

"No, not a game," Amy said, hoping she would not have to spell it out for him. Sheldon frowned in confusion, a state he rarely found himself in. "Maybe something we could do in our bedroom?" she suggested.

"Like a nap?" Sheldon glanced at his watch. "After we eat dinner it will be too late to nap."

"No, I don't want to go to sleep," Amy said.

Sheldon now looked really confused. "What could you want to do in our bedroom that isn't sleep . . . oh," Sheldon said as he finally realized what she was hinting at. And there Amy was about to tell him explicitly.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"We could skip pizza entirely," Sheldon suggested, and Amy's breath caught in her throat.

"You'd do that? You'd give up your routine for me?" She knew how much his routine meant to him and the discomfort it would cause him to forgo ordering pizza delivery on Thursday.

"I would."

"Sheldon, that's so romantic," Amy said. Perhaps her sense of romance was skewed but happily so.

Making love to Sheldon was different from making love to Dave, and though she promised the former to not compare him to the latter, she could not help but notice the differences. She had no complains about Sheldon's love of threes; his slow and methodical approach worked out more often than not.

"You're comparing me to him," Sheldon commented as they lay in their bed together. Theirs. Not hers. It would be nice to no longer have to spend the nights alone.

"I'm sorry," Amy apologized, not even attempting a lie. She was never any good at lying and Sheldon would see straight through any attempt at deception. "Nothing bad, I promise."

"Alright," Sheldon said. What would to others sound like doubt she knew to be acceptance. There was no need to discuss the subject any further. "Well, goodnight, Amy," he said when he caught his breath. He turned on his side, facing away from her.

She missed the contact more than she could voice aloud.

"Good night," Amy said back, turning to face away from him as well. Over time she grew accustomed to being in her bed alone again, and yet with the warmth of her fiancé radiating a mere few inches away from her, she felt the pang of loneliness even though he was right next to her.

She turned over on her side to face him in the darkened room. She threw her arm over his torso, and while the warmth and human touch should have made her feel better, she only felt more alone.

"Are you asleep?" she asked a few minutes later when Sheldon did not even twitch.

"I was," he grumbled.

She was being silly and ridiculous. He moved in to her—their—house, and not even at her prompting. He made love to her multiple times, and there she was upset at being alone when she had him right there next to her.

"Could you hold me?" she asked, hating the fact that her voice sounded small and weak.

Sheldon turned over to face her. "Alright," he agreed, holding her close to him. Amy rested her head against his chest, aware of his labored breathing as he quickly fell back asleep. She was not able to relinquish her conscious state nearly as quickly, and she found breathing to be a tad bit difficult as her nose was practically buried into his sleep shirt which he insisted on replacing before they went to sleep, but there was nothing that could have incentivized her to pull away.

On the plane ride to Houston, they played counterfactuals to pass the time, prompting the woman next to them to intervene.

"In a world where de-aging is a standard medical procedure, what modern day country does not exist?" Sheldon asked.

"Belgium," an elderly woman sitting across the aisle from them answered.

Sheldon frowned at the interference to their game. "Wrong," Amy corrected, "It's Greece."

"Defend," Sheldon said.

"In a world where de-aging is a standard medical procedure, Helen of Troy never grew old and died, the city-states of Greece continued fighting over her and Greece was subsumed by the Roman empire."

"Correct," Sheldon said.

"Whatever," the woman next to them mumbled. Amy knew Sheldon was not happy at the interruption of a stranger into their game, so she quickly distracted him.

"In a world where horses can speak . . ."


	79. Chapter 79

"Sheldon, wake up," Amy nudged Sheldon's shoulder when the plane landed.

"Danger! Danger!" Sheldon said before he came to.

Geez, Amy, you could have woken me up gently," Sheldon scolded.

"I did," Amy said sarcastically.

Amy got their rental car from the airport and followed Sheldon's directions. They would be staying with Mary Cooper for the weekend, something she was nervous about.

"Sheldon, are you sure your mother is okay with us staying there?" Amy asked for the fourth time. When Sheldon first proposed the idea of going away for the three day weekend, she assumed they would stay in a hotel. The distance would be of great comfort as she was faced with the reality of having to stay with his mother, whom she liked, but felt intimidated by.

"For the fourth time, yes," Sheldon said.

"And where will I sleep?" Amy asked. She wanted to sleep with Sheldon in his room, but knowing Mary Cooper's stance on premarital sex and even living together, she knew her future mother-in-law would disapprove of her preferred sleeping arrangements.

"You will sleep in the guest bedroom," Sheldon said yet again.

"I'd rather sleep with you," Amy said, and it was not even a suggestive comment.

"I'd rather sleep with you too," Sheldon said, "but you can't tell my mother that we're living together."

"Are you sure she'd mind? We are getting married in a couple of months."

"Amyyy," Sheldon whined.

"Alright. I won't tell her that we're living together," Amy agreed. She pulled up into the driveway and looked at the house. While Sheldon got out of the car, she sat glued to her seat.

Taking a breath to fortify herself, she joined Sheldon at the door. Mary Cooper greeted her son with a hug that Sheldon stiffly accepted and even reciprocated. It was strange seeing him exactly the same yet completely different at the same time.

"And Amy, it's been awhile," Mary Cooper said, to Amy's surprise giving her a hug as well.

"Come on in. Everyone's looking forward to meeting ya," she said with her Texas drawl.

"Everyone?" Sheldon questioned. "Who is everyone? What's going on?"

"It's nothin', Shelly. When I heard you were bringing Amy I thought I'd invite the whole family over."

Amy looked at Sheldon but it was obvious he was surprised as well. She prepared to meet Sheldon's mother again and tell her the news. She was not prepared to encounter any of his other relatives. It was too late to flee. She faced far scarier situations and she could soldier through this one as well.

"Welcome home, Shelly," a brunette woman said as she hugged Sheldon. He reciprocated the hug even more reluctantly than he had with his mother. "And you must be Amy," the brunette said. Amy felt herself enveloped in a hug by the stranger. Looking of her shoulder, she mouthed at Sheldon 'Help me.'

"That's enough, Missy," Sheldon came to her rescue.

The brunette was his twin sister. She should have realized, for although they were only fraternal twins, she was tall and had his same blue eye color. "It's nice to meet you too, Missy," Amy said.

"I can't believe Shelly's finally brought himself home a girlfriend. We never thought this day would come."

The acceptance she felt from the strangers who had every right to dislike her after everything she put Sheldon through astounded her.

"Junior, be nice to your brother," Mary scolded.

Junior, as he was called, did not appear the least bit ashamed. "Sorry," he said with a grin that looked exactly like Sheldon's, "I'm Shelly's older brother, George Jr. It's nice ta meet ya, Amy."

George stuck his hand out and Amy reached to shake it, but as she did, George instead held her hand in his. Amy could not fail to notice exactly what changed his intended motion.

"Shelly, is this what I think it is?" George asked, prompting Missy to come over and examine her hand—and more precisely her engagement ring.

"Amy is going to be my wife," Sheldon announced and Amy heard the pride in his voice. Missy hugged her again with a squeal, and George joined in. Overwhelmed at their enthusiasm, she returned the hug and waited for it to be over.

"Don't smother the girl," Mary said, and her two children stepped back, but no sooner did they relinquish their positions next to her Amy was once again smothered in an embrace.

"Welcome to the family," Mary said. Amy didn't know what to think of the immediate acceptance of her future family.

"Thank you," Amy said, unsure what else she could possibly say.

Amy was then introduced to Missy's husband and children. To Mary's dismay, George still was not married and, as far as Amy could tell, nor did he have any intentions of settling down. She kept that observation quiet.

Missy secluded her away from the rest of the family.

"Mom tells me you're a brain scientist," she said.

Amy appreciate her future sister-in-law's attempt to get to know her. "I'm a neurobiologist," Amy corrected gently.

"Same thing," Missy said, "that means you're smart like Shelly, don't it?"

Sheldon, listening in to their conversation, snorted in derision. "Don't be absurd," Sheldon said, "She'd have to loose fifty IQ points to only be classified as smart."

While Amy knew him to be telling the truth, it was, nevertheless, a bit rude the way he corrected his sister. She was only trying to be friendly.

"I'm sorry," Amy apologized for him but Missy brushed her apology off.

"Don't be. Shelly's never been good with manners. Don't tell mom." Missy winked at her conspiratorially. From that moment on Amy knew she and her sister-in-law would be great friends.

Mary Cooper made fried chicken and pecan pie, both two of Sheldon's favorite dishes. She would ask for the recipes before she and Sheldon left Texas.

As everyone sat down at the dinner table, George said, "So Amy, Shelly tells me you have two kids."

Amy saw the interest on everyone's faces and rather than starting on dinner, she took a sip of water and said, "Yes. A boy and a girl. They're twins and they're eighteen now."

"You should have brought them with you this weekend. I'd love to meet them," Mary said, surprising Amy with her sincerity.

Amy laughed. "They don't live at home anymore. Felix is traveling in Australia and Cassie is in Germany studying theoretical physics."

"Like Shelly?" Missy asked.

"I study string theory and dark matter. Cassie is studying inflationary cosmology. They're very different."

"All just gibberish to me," Mary Cooper said, refilling Sheldon's already emptied plate.

"When's the wedding?" George asked, growing bored of talking about science.

"June," Amy said. She wanted a summer wedding.

As she made the announcement, Sheldon said, "But Amy."

She knew he wanted an earlier wedding but she wanted to wait until the summer when Cassie was on break. Felix was free to come anytime. She was not about to get married without them. Using the same look she gave to Cassie and Felix when they started to complain, Amy warned, "Sheldon."

He shut up though she could tell he was working out a way to convince her to move up the wedding.

"That's fantastic," Missy said, "You just let us know the date. We wouldn't miss it."

Amy was glad there would be more family members in the audience who were enthusiastic for her and Sheldon.

Missy and her family bowed out early, which Amy understood. Eight children. Amy couldn't imagine having that many. More than once her children becoming tired necessitated she and Dave make their goodbye's before they were ready for the evening before the twins could cause trouble or embarrass them in some fashion.

George took his cue from Missy and left not much later. Alone with Mary Cooper and realizing it was getting late at night, Amy said, "I'm getting tired."

Mary focused on her and Amy wanted to squirm at the scrutiny.

"Now, I know you're an engaged couple but Amy will be staying in the guest bedroom." Though she looked at Amy her words were intended for Sheldon. "No funny business, ya hear?" she warned.

Amy gave her assent and followed Mary to the guest bedroom. She quickly readied for bed and heard Sheldon doing the same. Pajamas on and teeth brushed, she found him in his bedroom.

"Goodnight," Amy said. After living together for a month, and him staying over at her place or vice versa for the last couple of months, not being in the same room as him would be odd. She took a look around the room. It looked exactly like she would expect for a more immature version of his room. There was the same dark mahogany furniture and beige walls, posters and comic books covering most of the room.

"Goodnight," Sheldon said.

He came over to kiss her, and as their lips connected, she did not want to return to the guest room. His bed, while small, was large enough for the two of them.

"Ahem," a cough sounded behind them, causing Amy and Sheldon to jump apart. It was ridiculous. She felt the chastisement. "Now, I can't control what the two of you do in California but there will be no funny business under my roof."

"Yes, ma'am," Sheldon automatically agreed.

"Goodnight," Amy said to him one last time. She walked past Mary on her way out. It was going to be a long and lonely two nights until they were back home.

Without Sheldon next to her, she tossed and turned. Unable to fall asleep, she heard the sound of the door opening and squinted to see who it was.

"I don't like this bed," Sheldon whispered as he slipped underneath the covers. She moved to the side to make room for him.

"What if your mom finds us here?" Amy asked. Since her future family seemed to approve of her, she did not want to do anything that would jeopardize it.

"She's asleep," Sheldon mumbled. Not normally one for breaking the rules, he must have felt as alone as her.

Already she could feel her body succumbing to exhaustion now Sheldon was next to her.

She felt the warm body beside her stirring and she grabbed at Sheldon's wrist to prevent him from getting out of the bed. "Don't leave me," she said groggily, not wanting to wake up yet.

"My mom will be up soon," Sheldon said. His words were a douse of cold water and she let go of his wrist.

"Fine. Want you to stay," she said even as Sheldon left. When she went down to the kitchen, Sheldon and Mary were already up. The later gave no indication that she knew what happened the night before and Amy intended to keep it that way.

After breakfast, Sheldon toured her around Houston. While he did not find the place of much interest, Amy was fascinated seeing where he grew up. From his stories, she felt a bit sad at the kid who was alone and picked on, even by his own siblings. At least when she was bullied she did not have a brother or sister to spearhead the ambush.

"You kids have fun today?" Mary asked with a raised eyebrow. Amy fought the urge to blush. Was it obvious that she and Sheldon had been making out in the rental car minutes before.

"We did," Amy said and proceeded to tell Mary all the places they went.

"Well, the two of you must be tired. I'll get started on dinner."

Amy followed her into the kitchen and offered to help. When Mary questioned her, she said, "Sheldon loves your cooking. I thought I should learn a few of your recipes."

"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Why don't you get started washing and peeling those potatoes." Mary did not question her motives any further and Amy found it was pleasant cooking with her future mother-in-law. While Mary was deeply religious, as long as they avoided the topic of God, prayer, Jesus, or anything 'mumbo-jumbo' by her definition, they got along fine.

"You know after he got his Nobel Prize he spent the entire year here," Mary said conversationally.

"I know. Sheldon told me," Amy said. She also recalled Leonard and Penny telling her exactly that when she and Dave visited them in California.

Though Sheldon did not go into great details about the time, she knew it was trying for him. Whatever happened, it was in the past.

"He was really upset about ya. Never seen him that upset before, not even when his da' died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Amy said, her heart breaking on Sheldon's behalf. At least Sheldon had company in his misery even if he did not know it at the time. That was the same year she and Dave fell apart.

"I like ya, Amy," Mary said and Amy heard the but coming. Mary did not disappoint. "But I'm worried about Shelly. If ya hurt him again, I'm not sure he'll ever recover fully."

Amy looked down at the knife she was using.

"I don't want to hurt him," she said quietly, "I never intended to." She knew she had hurt him, but she was telling the truth when she said she did not mean to. She never wanted to see Sheldon hurt.

"Shelly told me a bit about why the two of you broke up."

"Oh," Amy said, not sure what to say to that.

"Why don't you tell me your side."

Amy wasn't sure what Mary was trying to accomplish though she obliged the request. "I wanted children and Sheldon didn't. There didn't seem to be much of a point in staying together. I didn't want to break up."

"But you felt you had no other choice," Mary said wisely, but than again, Amy knew she could be a smart woman even if she was nowhere near as smart as Amy and Sheldon. What she lacked in book knowledge she made up for in kindness.

"Your late husband," Mary continued.

"Dave," Amy supplied.

"Right, I don't mean to pry, but what happened to him?"

"Car crash," Amy said, not wanting to go into more details and dredge up the painful memories in her past.

"Oh you poor thing."

"It was sudden," Amy admitted, "I'd—we'd—both thought we'd have more time together."

"I'm so sorry."

"Can we not talk about him?" Amy said abruptly, for while she did not mind telling Mary Cooper about Dave, she didn't want to think about the details on what was supposed to be a happy occasion.

"Sorry, dear. Forgive me for being curious."

There were all sorts of things about Amy and Sheldon that Mary and her morals would not want to know about.

"Please promise me you won't hurt Sheldon again," Mary said by way to changing the topic.

"I don't ever want to hurt him," Amy said. She could not give Mary the promise she asked for, because no matter how hard Amy tried, there was no guarantee she would never hurt Sheldon. Accidents and pain were an inevitable part of life, but she would not intentionally hurt him.

Rather than waiting for Sheldon to come to her, Amy snuck into his bedroom that night. In his childhood room, she felt even more naughty for defying Mary's wishes and sleeping in the same bed as Sheldon but she did not want to be without him.

"Goodnight," Sheldon said and kissed her, but instead of bringing the kiss to it's conclusion, Amy kissed him back.

"Quiet," Sheldon said and silenced her with a kiss as Amy was about to moan. She quieted though it was difficult with Sheldon paying attention to her. He retrieved their pajamas from the ground and insisted she reclothe herself before they could fall asleep.

Amy rolled her eyes but in the dark Sheldon could not see. She did as he requested though she would have preferred to feel his bare skin against hers instead of the flannel pajama material.

"Wake up Shelly," Mary Cooper said loudly as she came into the room, "I made . . . Amy!"

Amy felt Sheldon tense beside her in preparation for the anger that would follow, but rather than furrow her brow in anger, Mary simply shook her head. "I made french toast when you two are decent."

Mary backed out of the room and shut the door behind her before Sheldon had a chance to reply. He looked at Amy in confusion.

She hurried through her morning routine for she could smell the cinnamon and nutmeg from the french toast wafting upstairs to the bedroom. She was starved, she realized.

Sheldon was a bit slower, and she noticed he appeared a bit nervous. "What's wrong," she said, joining him sitting on the foot of his bed.

"Mom wasn't angry," Sheldon said, looking between her and the bedroom door.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Amy said. "Come on, let's go eat breakfast."

Sheldon let her pull him up from the bed and lead him downstairs. Amy and Sheldon sat still and waited while Mary prayed, and then they dove into the french toast.

"I'm deceived you would disappoint me like this," Mary said when neither Amy nor Sheldon were inclined to speak.

"We're sorry," Amy said. She did not want to get on Mary's bad side. "And in the spirit of full disclosure, we are also living together."

Sheldon glared at her. She could feel the accusation radiating off of him, but she returned his stare full force.

"Amy, you weren't supposed to tell her that," Sheldon whined as Mary was briefly rendered silent.

Amy and Sheldon waited for the explosion that was going to come, but instead Mary simply sighed and said, "Well, I'm glad you aren't alone anymore, Shelly. I was worried about you for a long while."

And that was that.

* * *

AN: Only two more chapters and an epilogue left to go.


	80. Chapter 80

"Amy! It's good to see you again!" the violet-haired girl bounced on her tiptoes and hugged Amy. Surprised, she returned the hug stiffly and backed away as soon as she could.

"Hi Violet," she said, surprised by the enthusiastic greeting.

Amy looked around the restaurant Molly told them to meet up at. Although she soothed Sheldon's fears about eating at a strange place, she was no longer sure it was the right course of action. Rather grubby, it was a place neither of them felt comfortable in.

"Amy, Sheldon, nice to see you again," Sarah greeted them.

"Let's grab a table," Molly suggested. Sheldon looked around the room, trying to find the optimal place to sit, but seeing nothing, he followed Amy.

"So what have the two of you been up to?" Violet asked.

Amy glanced at Sheldon. "We just got back from Texas actually."

"Texas? Which part?"

"Houston. My family lives there," Sheldon explained. Although he sat perfectly still, Amy could tell he was nervous. If Molly's keen gaze was any indication, she also noticed.

Their waitress came over to take their order, and Sheldon, seeing nothing on the menu he wanted, asked for lemonade and nothing else. The waitress rolled her eyes at his lack of order.

"Not hungry, Sheldon?" Molly asked, and Amy watched as he squirmed uncomfortable. She knew he must be hungry, but from the look of the place, she understood why he did not want to order anything. Truth be told, based on the grubby interior she did not want to order anything either, unsure of the general cleanliness of the place and in increased risk of food-bourn illness.

"How have you been?" Amy asked as a distraction, causing Sheldon to appreciatively squeeze her hand under the table. He was already reluctant to meet for lunch, and she knew the source of his unease.

"Great! We're actually taking a trip to Durango this weekend. You should come along," Sarah suggested.

Amy looked at Sheldon, although she already knew the answer would be no.

"No thanks," Amy said.

Violet pouted. "But we're rafting the upper Animas. You both should come. It'll be fun."

Sheldon visibly paled at the thought of doing something outdoors.

"No thanks," Amy said, "We aren't really adventurous." She could safely speak for both herself and Sheldon on that score. The one time in her life she tried not being responsible, she nearly crashed and burned. She was not going to fall into that pattern again, especially now she had even more reasons not to. Amy was not about to do anything to risk orphaning Cassie and Felix.

Molly laughed. "You used to be. Remember when you went cliff diving with us?"

Sheldon looked scandalized. "Amy? Is that true?"

"Yes," she said. Sheldon's face went white and he looked her over. She could see him trying to determine any sign of injuries even though it was years previously.

"She did. We nearly had to push her off the cliff but she went," Violet said.

"Push her off a cliff are you insane?" Sheldon's voice became faster as he started to panic.

Amy watched the way he became even more uncomfortable, if that was in fact possible. The waitress delivered their orders but Sheldon entirely ignored his lemonade.

Then, turning to Amy, his voice low, he asked, "Did you really do that?"

Because cautious and dependable, spontaneity was not like her, but she was hurting and upset and at the time, even though it seemed like a bad idea, she wanted to forget.

"Yes," Amy said.

"You endangered yourself," Sheldon said.

"She wasn't in any danger," Violet said, and then amended, "Well, not much. We've done it a million times. Ames needed to loosen up a bit."

"She most certainly did not," Sheldon protested. Judging by his vice like grip on her hand under the table, he was very distressed.

"I'm all right, Sheldon," Amy said soothingly. Sheldon did not relax. Then, to really distract him, she said, "Violet says she's psychic."

If anything could distract Sheldon, that was it. Sheldon snorted in derision. "That's absurd. There is no evidence to support psychic abilities."

Amy watched in amusement as Sheldon and Violet argued, and while she agreed with Sheldon—psychics were not real—Violet, Molly and Sarah gave a passioned defense, causing Sheldon to become all the more disturbed. In fact, he was so disturbed that he prolonged the argument up until it was time for them to pay the bill and leave.

Once they were back home, to Amy's surprise, Sheldon kissed her, but something was different. His hands ran up and down her body.

"You're still upset," she observed at the way he touched her, as if checking for damage.

"I'm worried about you," Sheldon corrected. "Amy, I never knew you were capable of being reckless."

Amy held her breath. She knew she should tell him the truth. "I'm not reckless. Not really. But when I met them I was upset and lonely and they helped me forget my pain. Do you remember when you rescued me from that party?"

Sheldon narrowed his eyes. "It was their fault?" Although it sounded like a question they both knew he was not fooled.

"Yes and no," Amy admitted. "I'd just been rappelling with Violet and when she suggested—"

"—I don't want you seeing them again," Sheldon cut her off.

Amy frowned at him. "That's not your decision to make," she said warningly, bracing herself for an argument. Sheldon would whine, she would provide logical, reasoned arguments for why he could not control her behavior, and who would give in first she could not tell.

"Amy," Sheldon said, cupping her cheek with his hand. His face was so close to her and held such an expression of concern she felt herself listening to him anyways.

"Clearly these girls get you to do dangerous and reckless things. I don't want to loose you."

Were he not like a sad puppy she would be furious at his presumption. As it was, she said, "Look, Sheldon, I appreciate your concern but you don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I'm more stable now."

"I always worry about you," Sheldon said.

"But you still can't tell me who I can and can't be friends with."

Sheldon sighed. "Maybe it isn't a great idea for you to be friends with my therapist."

That stopped Amy. At some level, she knew he was right. There were professional boundaries in place and they already bent them by meeting up with Molly twice outside of Sheldon's therapy sessions.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Amy asked, though she already knew the answer. Sheldon was very uncomfortable, and she appreciated his attempts to work past the discomfort.

"Yes," Sheldon admitted.

"Alright then. I won't see them any more," Amy compromised. Sheldon made a lot of progress and while he no longer needed therapy to the same extent he used to, it was still important to him. That meant his therapy was important to her. It would be nice to have more friends, but she already had Penny and Bernadette.


	81. Chapter 81

**AN:** Huge thanks to everyone who has read, followed, and favorited, and special thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a review. Your feedback means so much to me and it was what motivated me to edit and post this story in it's entirety.

* * *

"I still can't believe I'm not going to be your maid of honor," Penny said for the fifth time that day. Amy, Penny, and Bernadette were out shopping for her wedding dress and the bridesmaids dresses.

"Cassie is going to be my maid of honor," Amy reminded Penny yet again, causing the blond woman to sigh.

"I know. She's your daughter. Do you like the blue swoop neck?" Penny showed off the most recent dress.

Truth be told, just about any dress looked stunning on Penny but Amy shook her head no. Though she and Sheldon were only going to have a small wedding with a few guests each, she still wanted everything to be perfect.

"Depends. Do you want to look like cotton candy?" Bernadette asked. Penny went back into the changing room, her question answered.

Because the ceremony was small, it came together easily and with little fuss. They found a small chapel nearby in which to have the ceremony, something Mary Cooper insisted on, and would have the reception in Penny and Leonard's backyard.

Before she knew it, though thinking it was too far away, it was time to pick up Cassie and Felix from the airport. Though she saw them a few months previously, both of them looked a lot older. Cassie, Amy noticed, was wearing a bit of mascara and lip gloss, a change from before.

Amy made no mention of the change. Felix was oblivious and instead regaled her with a blow by blow description of his glorious jobs serving drinks in bars and cleaning in hostels, though he and Sarah had landed a couple of local gigs during their months of travel. Felix planned to return directly to Australia after the wedding.

Now her children knew about Sheldon, she told them immediately after he moved in and they were not surprised when he greeted them at the door. Cassie was, as expected, in awe and excited. Felix was still a bit reluctant but Amy was glad he accepted Sheldon as part of her life.

"Mum, can can I go to the music store?" Felix asked after he and Cassie were unpacked.

Amy checked her watch. She would need to go get ingredients for dinner soon if they were not to eat very late. "How about tomorrow?" she suggested.

"Please," Felix switched his tactic to begging.

"Alright. But you only get an hour before I need the car back," she forewarned.

"I'll go with you," Cassie volunteered, which surprised Amy. Then again, the twins probably just wanted time alone together.

"Just two more weeks," Amy said.

"I know," Sheldon agreed.

"Where did time go?"

"Not quickly enough," Sheldon answered her rhetorical question.

By the night before their wedding, Sheldon was less than cooperative.

"I don't want to spend the night at Leonard and Penny's," Sheldon complained yet again.

"You have to," Amy said, "It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

"Luck does not exist and you know it."

"Fine. But it is a social convention."

Amy knew that it was manipulative of her to play on his neurotic need to abide by social conventions but she also needed to get him out of the house for the next day. Although she knew whether or not he saw her before the ceremony would change nothing, she also wanted to surprise him.

"Fine," Sheldon agreed, though he hung his head in dejection. She almost changed her mind to let him stay but thought better of it. It was only one night.

Penny and Bernadette came by to take her out for her bachelorette party. With Cassie, Jenna, and Halley in tow, they were unable to go to a club or a bar. Their activities were family friendly, a significant change from her last bachelorette party.

While only a little alcohol was involved on the parts of the adults, they played a scavenger hunt at the mall and rode the carousel intended for kids. Not a wild night it was fun all the same.

Amy tossed and turned that night, unable to fall asleep. It was not from nerves; she had no doubts about marrying Sheldon. Rather, she missed his presence. She quickly became accustomed to having him next to her, and when one or the other of them, but mostly Sheldon, had to go away for a conference or to give a speech, she missed him each and every time.

She spent almost the first thirty years of her life sleeping alone in a bed. Now, it was hard to go without. The next morning, she had small bags under her eyes from lack of sleep but Penny and Bernadette expertly covered them up. Once the girls were finished with their handiwork, Amy had to admit she looked good.

"It's time," Amy said aloud.

Felix looked up from his book. Alone with all the girls, he had no interest in hair and makeup and dresses and proceeded to ignore them all. At the mention of his name, he listened to the conversation.

"You look beautiful, mum," Felix said.

"Thank you. Would you walk me down the aisle?" Amy asked. She knew he was not particularly fond of Sheldon, but she hoped he would agree.

"Alright," Felix said. Amy beamed at him.

It might be unconventional for her son instead of her father to escort her, but she would rather it be Felix. She hadn't even told her parents about the wedding, nor had she talked to them since she walked out of their house over a year previously.

Cecile and Jenna excused themselves to take their seats.

As if in a dream she floated to the front of the chapel where Felix relinquished her to Sheldon. 'Thank you' she mouthed at her son. He nodded and took his seat in the front row. Cassie stood next to Amy and Leonard beside Sheldon. Everyone else was in the audience. They had a pastor to perform the ceremony. Mary Cooper insisted and while Amy would prefer one of their friends to officiate over the ceremony, she would acquiesce to keep her mother-in-law's support.

"Have you written your own vows?" the pastor asked.

"Yes," Amy and Sheldon said simultaneously. Since they were both atheists, they did not want the traditional vows and opted to give their own.

"Alright. Amy, you go first," the pastor said.

"Sheldon," Amy started, her eyes only for him. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest and it was as if every other person in the room ceased to exist. "It's taken us a long time to get here, but I'm grateful for any path that brought me to you. You're the positron to my electron, the mitochondria to my cell, and taluhk nash-veh k'dular, ashayam*. Thank you for waiting for me."

Amy watched the way Sheldon's eyes lit up at her use of Klingon. She had Leonard teach it to her and she practiced until she was sure she could pronounce it correctly.

"Sheldon, your turn," the pastor said.

Sheldon squeezed Amy's hands a bit tighter. "Amy, you are my best friend, my soul mate, and my lover. I know I am not perfect but I will try my best to make you happy. 'You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant.'"** Amy's heart fluttered at the quote perfectly chosen to their situation. Him and his sexy eidetic memory. "Amy, thank you for choosing me."

* * *

 **AN:**

*I cherish thee, beloved.

**Quote (abridged) from _Persuasion_

All that is left is the epilogue. With law school just starting, I am really busy at the moment so if I don't post it soon, just nag me. It works (and is the reason I finally remembered to get this chapter posted).


	82. Chapter 82

Epilogue: Three years later

"Can I talk to you?" Amy said as she walked into the living room to find the tv blaring the intro to _Star Wars_.

Sheldon hit pause on the remote and while he turned to face Amy, sitting on the other side of the couch, Amy knew his attention was not fully focused on her. The way his eyes flit from the tv screen to her face and back again let her know he would much rather be watching the movie, but as her husband of three years, he knew it was even more unwise to ignore her completely in favor of his preferred activity.

"About what?" Sheldon asked suspiciously. Amy knew he had some reason to be suspicious. She rarely had to request time to speak with him, comfortable enough in their relationship to tell him what was on her mind as it came up, but the problem gnawing at her for months needed to be resolved and soon. She did not want to wait any longer to get the burden off her chest.

"I . . ." Now she had his attention, she was unsure where to start. Her request would be an unusual one, perhaps even uncomfortable for him to endure, yet it was a request she needed to make. "It's about Dave," she said finally.

Amy knew Sheldon's attention shifted to her when he turned off the tv, and she was glad the black screen would not distract him anymore. She squirmed uncomfortably under the intensity of his focus. Perhaps it was odd to talk about her last husband with her current one, yet she relied heavily on his support.

"What about him?" Sheldon asked.

He was as uncomfortable with the topic of conversation as she was, and that gave her some modicum of relief. They could both be uncomfortable together.

"The seventh anniversary of . . . well . . . you know," she hedged. There were numerous words she could use to finish her sentence: death, demise, passing, car crash. They were all synonymous in the context and yet she could not bring herself to say them with such clarity. Sheldon looked at her expectantly and she took a deep breath for fortify herself for her request. "I want to visit his grave," Amy said at last.

Sheldon sat still for a moment and she could see him thinking, though what was on his mind she would not venture a guess.

"This is important to you?" Sheldon asked, though Amy was fairly certain the question was rhetorical. They both knew she would not have brought it up if it wasn't.

"I . . . I never really let myself say goodbye. I want to now." It was true for a large part. When her husband passed seven years ago, she cried. She grieved. She sorted through their shared belongings and sold their shared house. Yet all the while she threw her effort into raising their two children, and when the children left home, she found a new job and moved, reconnected with her friends, and lost herself in her new life. She acclimated back to California, but just as she had time to think again, Sheldon was back in her life. With a whirlwind proposal followed by months convincing her family and friends she was happy, then immediately after their wedding and period settling into married life, it left her with little time to ruminate on the past.

As she grew comfortable with her new life with Sheldon—since their reacquaintance she was happy—she had more time to spare thinking about Dave's death, until one day it came upon her suddenly she realized the feeling had been building for quite some time: she was not quite finished with that chapter of her life.

"November 14," Sheldon confirmed the date of Dave's passing even though he must already know it. She told him once and he never forgot anything.

"Yes," she affirmed, waiting for what he would say next. His face was neutral and she was not sure how he felt about her request. She felt nerves creeping up on her. She did not want her need for closure to cause a rift between them, for though she had no doubt in their ability to overcome it, she did not like arguing with him. As a matter of principle she tried to avoid fighting whenever possible.

Sheldon retreated from the room, leaving Amy on the couch to her solitude. He was unhappy, she thought, yet at the same time, what else was she to do? She could not give up her resolution to visit his grave.

Amy was not left to stew in her uncertainties for long. A quarter hour later Sheldon reentered the living room and sat back down in his spot. He did not look upset or angry. Simply resigned.

"I booked our plane tickets," Sheldon said. "Could you call Ann and see if we can stay with her? I don't want to have to stay in a hotel."

On that note Amy agreed, she and Sheldon shared a dislike of staying in hotels and given Sheldon's tendencies, finding a hotel that met his exacting standards was nigh on impossible.

"You're coming with me?" she asked in some surprise. Regardless of Sheldon's reaction, she had not expected him to come with her. It was a part of her past and she knew it was an uncomfortable topic for him. She broke his heart when she married Dave, a wound that eventually healed when they reunited and though she had told him a little about her first marriage and partner, she avoided undue references to avoid giving him pain. The two parts of her life she could separate. Both men were, in their own, unique ways, good husbands and lovers. She felt little need to compare the attributes of the two. They each came to her in parts of her life when she needed them most and that was that.

Sheldon looked baffled at her question. She cocked her head silently asking her question. Sheldon perceived it easily.

"I don't want you to go by yourself. Unless . . . you don't want me to go?" Uncertain Sheldon was a rarity, plagued as he was by an abundance of confidence. His vulnerability as he asked the question was endearing.

"No. I'd like that. I just didn't think you'd want to come. Won't it be painful for you?"

Sheldon looked to the middle cushion on the couch that separated them, debating the merits of remaining in the comfort of his spot or moving closer to her. Anticipating his willingness to be discomforted to be closer to her, she closed the gap instead. Sheldon pulled her head against his chest and her entire body relaxed into the embrace. She felt the faint pulse of his heart against her ear.

"Amy," Sheldon said, "It will be painful for me. I will never be able to forgive myself for my selfishness back then that necessitated you find another man. A better man. But even if it makes me uncomfortable I want to support you."

Amy craned her neck upwards and from her husband's expression she knew he was in earnest. "I vowed to love and to be by your side. Let me go with you," Sheldon said and Amy knew she would cave.

If he wanted to go as she finally said goodbye to her first husband, she would not turn away the support he could offer her. Sheldon supporting her. Sheldon taking off work to fly halfway around the world so she could go to her first husband's grave. That would be unimaginable to the Sheldon she first met almost thirty years previously, but was to be expected of the man by her side. She would not have him any other way, then or now.

Whether Sheldon was excited or not to be back in London, Amy could not tell, and despite the gloomy reason for their brief visit, Amy did know Sheldon was excited to take the train. She could have easily rented a car and driven but Sheldon's childish excitement to take the train won her over. He was doing so much for her coming along the least she could do in return was compromise on riding the train.

Her feet seemed to automatically walk through the empty graveyard, her husband trailing a few steps behind her. She placed the bouquet of flowers on the gravestone and stood up, looking at it silently.

She must have stood there for at least an hour, taking the time to recall memories of her deceased husband as her current one stood patiently a few steps back, waiting for her to complete a task she had to do on her own but close enough to offer his support should she need it.

She briefly wondered how she got so lucky to find two such good men in her life. When rain began to lightly fall, she fished out her umbrella from her purse, an item she automatically carried everywhere. She recalled the day they met and the day Dave proposed and the day they married, and the two best moments of her life: the day she found out she was expecting and the day her twins were born. As she recalled the good memories so too did she recall the bad: her parents' strong and continued disapproval of her first husband, her mother-in-law's passing, their one and only trip to California as a family and the good and bad that brought. That trip caused a rift between them, a fight they had almost not been able to overcome, but with much discussion and forgiveness she and Dave found their way back to each other.

Tears stung her eyes as she remembered the day she got the news of his accident and subsequent hospitalization. Critical condition. The panicked flight to find him at the hospital, the doctor's uncertainty, and the crashing realization that she was a widow. Her life changed that day and at the time she could not have anticipated all the changes such a life altering event could bring: it sped up both her children's scholastic pursuits, bringing them to leave her house sooner than she imagined. It led to her finally moving back to California to be surrounded by her closest friends once more. It gave her the incentive she needed to mend fences with her parents and while she would never look back on her childhood fondly, she came to peace with it and stopped blaming her parents for her years of misery and loneliness. And, if not for Dave's death, she never would have reunited with her first love.

Her first and second love, very different but both good men.

Sheldon moved to stand behind her. He did not say anything, only wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her smaller body into his. She fit nicely into the curve of his torso and let her cheek rest against his chest while she cried and silently said her goodbye to her second love. It was not a passionate love but it was one that brought her a great deal of happiness and contentment, and out of that love she bore her two children, and they gave her an infinite and previously unimaginable amount of joy.

She wondered if Sheldon's patience with her would ever wear out as she stood there crying, allowing herself to finally do what she had not allowed herself previously. The tears were cathartic, and the memories redundant. Perhaps he had kept some of his life a secret from her: his continued study of Sheldon's research and his chance meeting with him, and she let go of the anger she felt at that deception via Dave's lie of omission. He only lied, and even then indirectly, to avoid hurting her.

Amy could not have known the way Sheldon's thoughts tended as they stood there, and perhaps if she did, she would have been aghast. For though he knew he should not be happy at the man's death, had Dave not died prematurely Sheldon would not have had a second chance to win Amy's love and her hand. Even a changed man he could not compete with her husband and father of her children, and only Dave's passing and her time grieving allowed him the opportunity to reenter her life as her paramour, her lover, and most importantly her best friend.

His lips pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head, and while his feet were soaked through from standing in the grass as it continued to rain Sheldon said nothing, letting Amy to her contemplations.

Glad at the opportunity to slow down and finally say goodbye, Amy shivered in the cold air. Slightly wet herself, for the umbrella could not keep out all the rain, she was glad for the warmth of her current husband's body as she said goodbye to her previous.

"I'm ready to go," she said at long last, her eyes still fixed on the tombstone.

Amy's hand slid down Sheldon's arm and eventually found his hand, and lacing her fingers between his, she murmured a final, "Goodbye, my love," before turning to make her way back out of the cemetery. Sheldon kept to her slow pace, matching her stride as she walked away. Not once did Amy glance backwards to the retreating image of the tombstone, nor would she for the entirety of her life step foot on English soil again.

The years passed with no mention between her or Sheldon of their visit to Dave Gibb's gravesite, but with the peace she found there, they did not have reason to discuss it. They went together to Berlin and then to New York to watch her children get married, and frequently visited them. By the time they were reunited it was too late for Amy to bear any more children, and she and Sheldon were content that they would never gift humanity with their progeny as they once discussed. It was, in hindsight, not so great a loss, for while Sheldon would never replace Dave in Felix and Cassie's affections, he did become their second dad and as a man who learned to late in life the value of pure, unselfish love, Sheldon was content with his lot.

They attended the births and weddings of her grandchildren, but by the time her great grandchildren came along they were too old to travel any more, and the hot and cold variability of other climates was to much for their old bones to bear anyhow.

Though she was expected to live longer, Amy surpassed Sheldon in death. Sheldon, distraught at existing in a world without Amy Farrah Fowler-Gibbs Cooper, remained just long enough to use his anal attention to detail to see Amy's will fulfilled exactly to her specifications. When it came to the woman he loved, there was no length he would not go to to see her wishes come to fruition. He buried her at cemetery near Pasadena and, as per her wishes, had a lock of her hair and her first wedding band buried next to her first husband with a plaque commemorating her death. Not one to long be outdone by his wife, Sheldon Lee Cooper followed her three weeks later, and not a single one Amy's descendants were surprised, for two people equally matched in love could not long be expected to exist without their other, better half.

* * *

 **AN:** That's it. I can't believe it's over. This is the longest story I've ever written and I am amazed so many people stuck with me through the entire thing. Thanks again to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed.

I am currently working on two more Shamy stories, but as with this one, I won't start posting until I have a completed draft. But if people feel like prodding me along, I do write faster with encouragement (especially now that I have less time in law school).


End file.
